For the Agitator.
mother and Child.
D*mW Uio light of the summer morn
Shade on the willow and while hawthorn j
Far in the cast pale streaks of gray
Coldly tokened the coming day;
In the morn'mg dim, thro’ the rank, wot grass,
A woman’s form did wearily pass—
Passed with step uncertain and slow,
To the bank of the stream that slept below.
And ever with loving tones she wiled
As oho held by tire hand her only child {
Who upward gaicd with a strange surprise
At the gleaming light of her sad dark eyes:
M I was sleeping warm in my little bed,
And why did yon bring me hero 7”—he said.
•The world is bitter, my darling child !”
She said, and her eye grew strangely wild.
“Bitter and cold—and wo are lone! •
Wilt go with me, my loved, my own ?’’
Ob, a strange, weird sight was that mother pale
Whisp’ring gently a fairy tale,
A sweet, wild tale of a beautllul homo
Fathoms beneath the snowy foam.
And the boy grew calm and sunk to rest,
In childlike faith, on his mother's breast.
Sank to rest on the grassy shore
That his little feet shall press no moro.
, * * » ■ *
The sun has silvered a thousand rills.
Warmed the valleys and brightened the hills,
Casting aelant a golden beam,
Whore sleeps the mother beneath the stream—
Calmly sleeps in a'dreamless rest
With the boy she loved on her gentle breast.
The while hawthorn has scattered its flowers
On the summcr.wmd, in fragrsnt showers,
The willow trees on the streamlet’s verge,
Are softly singing a mournful dirge—
A soft, low dirge in the morning gray—
A requiem sad, a gentle lay.
With voice that seemclh ever to say—
“l* e arc passing away—passing away *'
G. W. Sears.
HllfOROdS SKETCH.
Prom The Yankee Blade.
AWFUL PREDICAMENT
FOE A BASHFUL YOUNG NAN.
Lewiston Falls, Maine, is a place, il is I
You can't exactly find n on the map, for it
has been located and incorporated since Mitch
ell s latest ; but it's there—a manufacturing
cit),ns large as life, wlh banks, barber-shops,
newspapers, and all the usual fixtures and
appurtenances of a locomotive going ahead,
Yankee sellleme:..,
Just about the sweetest thing in the new
cilv, is a new. cheap, clothing store that “nz
up’ or “rained down" lately, on the Jonah’s
court) or Aladdin s palace principle and which
bv me same mysterious dispensation, became
endowed with the cutest Yankee salesman
that the Dingo Stale ever turned out.
T’other day. an tin river young un, who is
about to forsake both father ana mother, and
cleave unto iNancv Ann, came down to get his
suit,and was.ol course, "iesi natural!v bound”
to find his way into me new clothing store.
Not that he sauntered in with the easy swag
ger of the town-bread searcher of cheap do
thine, for the vernal lint was tolerable fresh
on him yet, and he slopped to give a modest
ran at the door. He had effected nn entrance
at the cnst mill and at the Journal olhce,
where he had been doing business, in the
same unobtrusive manner, and the boys all
agreed that Mr. Nehemiah Newbegm was
from "the Guliep,” and was paying his vir
gin visit to "Pekin.
Nehemiah was let in “imegitiy,” and he
was delighted with the cordial reception he
met win.
Tne proprietors were ready to “forward
his sun” at once, if he “saw fit,’ or they would
“talca measures" and furnish him “to order.”
Nehemiah drew a handbill from the top of his
hat. and spread it on his knee for easy refer
ence, Il was headed in the fat Gothic let
ters
“Winter Clothing at Cost!”
and set forth that in conscouence of the mild
ness of the season.over five thousand dollars
worth of ready-made clothing was lo be clos
ed un and sold at at
“Lnormoos Sacrifice”
A lisi of nrtces followed, and Nehemiab,
runmnc his slumpv hnaer down (he column,
In with emphasis on a parlicular nem.
“Sav —‘v’ye got ennv of those blew coles
left, at five dollars ‘nd five n’af ‘nd six dollars
—pot ennv of'm left *
“Smith, aro there any of ihose cheap coals
left inomred the perlite Mark of his part
ner “We sold the las! this morning, did we
nor’’
Smith understood (he cheap clolhing busi
ness and answered promptly, “All gone, sir.”
“Jest's 1 expected,” murmured the disap
pointed candidate, “darnaiion seize it all 1 I
told dad they'd all be gone I"
"We nave a very superior article for ten
dolla:
“Scarcely, Squire, scarcely ! —ten dollars
ts an all-fired price lor a cote.”
“W e can make one to order. ’’
“1 -e-s 1 but 1 want n now—want it right
strut off—fad is, Squire, must hev’em.”
“You’d find those cheap al len dollars.”
“Dun kno bou; il 1 say. ‘v’y got eny of
these dewrable doeskin trowsers left, at lew
dollars ; sold them all lew, ‘sped Wiint ye?”
—haint none of ’em left nouther, have ye.
Luckily there was a few left, and Nehomi
nh was advised to secure a pair al once.—
Nehcmiah was open for a trade, but acting
on the instincts of the Newbegms, it must be
a dicke
“Dew yeou ever take projeuce for your
clothing k
“Take what ?’
“Produce —garden sass—and sich—don't
do n do vcou
“ Welt, occasionally we do ; what have you
to selP”
"Oh, almost anything? a leelle of every
thing from marrowfat peas down to rye straw;
got some new cider, some high top sweetings ;
got some of the all-killtn’est dried punkin
yeou ever set eyes on ; “sped, naow, yeou'd
like some of that dried punkin; any how.”
Mark declined negotiating for the dried
punkmg, but inquired if he had any good
butter. b
“G-o-o-d butter I now squire, Lexpecl I’ve
got some of the nicest and yalteresi yeou ev
er sol eyes on ; got some out here neow ; got
some in a shooger box, eout in dad’s waonfn •
brol it down for Kurnel Waldron ; bui°y e ou
Ken hev it: I’ll bring il right strut in here
darn’d ef I dont V' '
And with all the impetuosity of youth, Ne
hemiah shot forth to “dad's waggin”and brol
>h the butter.
On (he strength of the butter, a dicker jyas
TIE
amotto to iOc artcnaton ot tij)t am of iryctaow ano if
COBB, STURROCK & CO.,
YOL. 2.
spedily contracted, by which NefiemiaK was
to be put in immediate and absolute possess
ion of a coat, veal and jpantaloons, of good
materials and fit.
“Now, then,” said Mark, “what kind of a
coat will you have?”
“I reckon I’ll hev a blew ’un, Squire,”
“Yes, but what kind—a dress coat I”
"Certainly, Squire, certainly—jest what I
want a coat for, tew dress in.”
"Ah, exactly ; well, just look at these
plates,” pointing to the fashion plates, in the
window, “and see what style you fancy.”
“Oh, darn your plates; don’t want any
crockery ; ‘spect Nanse has got the all-kil
len’est lot of arlhen ware yeou ever sot eyes
on.”
“Yes, I sec ; well, just step this way then,
and I think 1 can accommodate you.”
Nehemiah speedily selected a nice, blue
coat, and vest of green, but he was more fas
tidious in his choice of pants, those crowning
glories of his new suit. He seemed to in
dulge a weakness for long pantaloons, and
complained that his last pair had troubled him
exceedingly, or, as he expressed it, blamed
ly by hitching up over his boots, and wrinkled
about the knees. Nehemiah delved away
impetuously amidst a stock of two or three
hundred pairs, and finally finds his eyes res
ted upon a pair of lengthy ones, real blazers,
and with wide yellow stripes running each
way, Nehemiah snaked them out in a twink
ling. He liked them—they were long and
yellow—they were just the things, and he
proceeded at once lo try them on. The new
clothing store had a nook curtained off for
(his purpose, and Nehemiah was speedily
closeted therein,
The pants had straps, and the straps were
buttoned, Now Nehemiah had seen straps
before, but the an of managing them was a
mystery, and like Sir Patrick’s dilema, “re
quired a might dale of nice consideration.”
On deliberation, he decided that the boots
must go first; he accordingly drew on bis
Blucher’s, mounted a chair, elevated the pants
at a proper angle, and endeavored to coax the
legs, into them. He had a lime of it. His
bools were none of the smallest, and the pants
were none of the widest ; the chair 100, was
rickety, and bothered him; but bending his
energies lo (he lask, he succeeded in inducing
one leg into the “pesky-things.” He was
straddled like the CoJlossus of Rhodes, and
just in the act of raising the other fool, when
whispering and giggling in his immediate vi
cinity, made him alive lo the appalling fact
that nothing hut a thin curtain of chintz sep
arated him from twenty or thirty of the pret
tiest and wickedest girls that were ever caged
in one shop ! Nehemiah was a bashful youth,
and would have made-a circumbendibus of a
mile, even if he had been in full dress ; as il
was, his muulh was ajar at the bare possibil
ity of making his appearance among them
in his present dishabille. What if there was
a hole in the curtain I —What if he should
fall I It wouldn’t bear thinking of; and plung
ing his fool iolo the vacant leg, with a sort
of frantic loseness, ho brought on the very
ealastrojihe he was anxious lo avoid. The
chair collapsed with a sudden “scrouch,”
pitching Nehemiah head over heels through
the curtain, and he m ide his grand entrance
among the stitching divinities on all' fours,
like a fettered Rhinoceros.
Perhaps Collier himself never exhibited a
more striking tableau vivanl than was now
displayed. Nehemiah was a “model,” every
inch of him, and though not exactly “revol
ving on a pedestal,” he was going through
that movement quite as effectually on his buck
—kicking, plunging, in short personilying in
thirty seconds all the attitudes ever “clnsseled.”
As for the girls, they screamed of course,
jumped upon chairs and the cutting hoard,
threw their hands over their faces, peeped
through their fingers, screamed again, and de
clared, “they should die, they knew they
should.”
“Oh, Lord!” blubbered the distressed
young ’un : don’t gals, don’t I 1 didn’t mean
tew, 1 swan to man 1 didn’t; its all owing to
these cussed trowsers —every mile on’t: ask
your boss, he’ll tell you how it ’twas. Oh,
Lordy ! won’t nobody kiver me up with old
clothes, or turn the wood box over me 1 Oh,
Moses in the bullrushes, what’ll Nancy say 1”
He managed to raise himself on his feet
and make a bold splurge toward the door,
but his “entangled alliances” tripped him up
again and he fell “kerslap” upon the goose
ol the pressman I This was the unkmdest
cut ol all. The goose had been healed ex
pressly for thick cloth seams, and the way it
sizzled in the seal of the new pants was af
flicting to the wearer. Nehemiah riz up in
instant, and seizing the source of all troubles
by the slack, ho lore himself free from all
save the straps and some pantalet-like frag
ments that hung about his ancles, as he dashed
through the door ol the emporium at a two
forty pace, Nehemiah seemed to yearn with
the poet for a “lodge in some vast wilder
ness,” and betrayed a settled purpose to "flee
from the noisy haunts of men,” for the last
seen of him, he was capering up the railroad
—cutting like a scared rabbit —the rays of
the declining sun flickering and dancing upon
a broad expance of linen, that fluttered gaily
in the breeze, as be headed for the nearest
woods.
A young man and a female, once upon a
lime, stopped at a country tavern. Their
awkward appearance excited the family, who
commenced a conversation with (he female
by enquiring how fai she had traveled.
“.Traveled I” exclaimed the stranger, some*
what indignantly, “We didn’t travel, we
rid.”
Confidence contributes more to conver
salion that wu Of tuleni.
'lf) T ■ M [ ;i i
TOLLSBOBOPOH, TIOGA COUSTY, PA., THURSDAY M'OlfflfflG, AUGUST 9 1855.
- E ———— = - ! - : ——— -—--‘ LI -i 1 - ' ~ ■■ - ....
TAKES AT Hls AvORD.
A few years ago 1 made tine of the seven
lynine passengers on board the Past steamer
Emily BarWn, bound up the Tennessee. A
pleasant, intelligent, go ahead captain, a good
steward, and a social, refined company, made
the trip one of pleasure; indeed long shall T
remember ihetsaucy Emily Bapion, and her
superb-Jiving freight.
One lovely summer afternoon it was whis
per started first low and, near the stern,
somewhere in the. vicinity of, the ladies cab
in, and speedily making its way to the. hall,
the boiler deck, and then to the main ? like
the snow-ball rolling down the mountain,
gathering size, form,-and-.moinenium, as it
rolled forward, until the principals in the in
teresting scene were not only pointed out, but
the parson with some scraps of the history of
each fiction, fact, and surmise, ail hushed up
ingeniously, leaving one in that half pleasant,
half painful slate of suspense and doubt, that
opens the eyes so wide and strains the drum
of the ear so light to all transpiring around
you.
Well, we landed lo wood at a magnificent
beech bottom, the tall, heavily leaved trees
with their silver grey trunks making a deep
cool shade, while they, with the grassy, green
bank that bore them, were imaged in the
glassy river, so clear, so true, that inversion
only pointed the false from the real, while
cutting this charming spot in twain, came
murmuring a crystal spring brook, scarcely
four spans wide, to lose itself in the mass of
Tennessee waters, they in return to be alike
lost in the boundless ocean.
No sooner was ihe staging out than there
emerged from the ladies’ cabin a fine, manly
looking fellow, dressed in faultless taste, intel
lect beaming in every feature, while over his
face perfect happiness shone like Phorus on
the sea. Leaning on his arm, was the most
loveable woman it has ever been my lot to
behold, her fine hazel eyes—tell tales that
ihey we^e—speaking deep emotion, and her
expressive lip, quivering with suppressed ex
citement, while her dress, step and grace, was
that of a queen.
“There they are ! Thai’s her!—Oh, how
beautiful burst from many a lip, as we in
stinctively made way to let them pass to the
altar, and where that was we had about as
clear an idea as a trancendcntalist generally
has of what they are talking about. But one
thing was fun ahead, and to follow in their
wake was the way to see it. As the ladies
passed, a gallant arm was offered to each, and
thus we marched out of the cabin, down, the
stairs, across the staging, and up the slopinc
bank. Some fifty yards up the brook the
pair stopped, and joining hands they stood
with the clear water between them—bridged
it was by the twining fingers and crossed by
a stream of love as pure as itself. All was
silent, still, until broken by the minister read
ing in an impressive manner; ‘And of the
rib which the Lord had taken from man,
made he a woman and brought her to the man.
Adam;said this is bone of my bone and flesh
of my flesh, she shall be called woman be
cause she was taken out of man. Therefore
shall a man cleave unto his wife, and they
shall be one flesh.” He then closed the good
and holy book and offered a most touching
and beautiful prayer—not a heart but seemed
to feel the earnest appeal to the throne of
grace. Then asking the usual questions he
pronounced them husband and wife.
The bride slowly sinking on her knees,rais
ed her beautiful face all covered with tears,
—clasped her hands, and in the most touch
ing sweet voice, tremulous with emotion,
said:
“And now, oh, merciful Father, grant that
our lives thus united may peacefully flow in
one, even, as this rivulet, until we reach the
river ofdeath, undivided in faith and conduct,
and be permitted to enjoy thine eternal smiles
in the land of the pure and blessed.”
Every pulse seemed stilled, hoping for
more of this beautiful drama. Not a word,
not a movement from all that throng—all, all
was happiness. Ob, lovely panorama, how
thou art graven on this heart! The happy
man was in the act of imprinting a kiss upon
the smiling lips o ( f his magnificent bride,
when the clear tones of a manly voice start
ed all from (heir pleasant reveries, and the
universal gaze rested on a tall, handsome
Tennesseean, whose eagle eye spoke the man
a fit representative of the Biale where sleeps
a Jackson.
■I can’t slant) this any longer. I cnn’i by
—pardon ladies, but I have a proposition to
make on the good faith of a man who never
lies or trifles. I must make it or die—so here
goes; Now I will marry on this spot any
lady who has the nerve to face such music.
Look at mo, and if yon can love me as she
loves (pointing to the brideji’ll promise lo be
a husband to you, such a husband as a true
hearted man will make a woman who comes
trembling under his wing; I say further, that
no spot of shame attaches to my name, or
ever shall, and this arm shall support and
protect the one that will trust it. Who’ll take
me 1 and his eye ran slowly and steadily over
the crowd of handsome women around him.
His earnest manner and novel speech had
aroused an intense excitement, all was sur
prise and deep sympathy with the fearless,
excited orator, when, to the astonishment and
delight of every one, a fawn like, blue eyed
girl from the flowery banks of the Alabama,
stepped to his side and looked confidently up
to his eyes with her hands on his arm, and
said—
“l am thine.”
By this time his arm was around her waist,
and parting her curls—black as the raven at
midnight—looked steadfactly in her face for
a moment and ‘signed the contract’ with a
kiss that all the married ladies afterwards
pronounced lo be ol the genuine sorljporfoct-
“ TUB AGITATION OF THOUGHT. M THE BEGINNING OF 'wft'DOM.”
V T V
(ill v Tor,
ly satisfactory. Raising his dashing eyes
with a triumphant expression from the pleas
ant job just mentioned, he said ;
“Whore.is Ihe parson? ■ Send him here—
on tins spot we’ll be made one. 1 never*let
such luck pass me by wailing a minute*, so go.
ahead,!’ and on that spot where first they met,-
were theyrsoiemniy united forever.
When the words, ‘what God had joined
let no man put-asunder,’ died away,.a shout
went up that awakened the echoes* for miles*
every hand was extended to the happy, lucky,
venturesome fellow, and every lady in that
crowd pressed the lips of his trusting 'wife.'—
For a moment I wished I were her, but I in
stantly recovered my self possession, and
thrust the weakness from me, (women kiss
ing each other always seemed a waste of
sweetness,’but they know best,) and laughing,
shouting and happy, we returned on board.
Our generous captain set a splendid sup
per, the clerk made out two certificates, they
were signed by the parson ; and seventy-four
witnesses—five more made nine you know,
men and women all told—everybody signed.
Then we danced, we laughed, wo made
children of ourselves—yes. I’m afraid we
made fools o( ourselves. Be that as it may,
when the watch was changed at solemn noon
of night, the bluffs on the dark shores of the
river returned only the echo of the hoarse
coughing of the engines of the Emily Barton,
for we slept, and our dreams vainly tried to
vie with the lovely reality of the evening.
Fireside Story about Honesty.
One evening a poor man and his son, a
little hoy, sat by the way side, near the gate
of an old town in Germany. The father
took a loaf of bread, which he had bought in
town, and broke it, and gave the half to his
boy. “Not so father,’’ said the boy, "I shall
not eat till after you. You hove been work
ing all day at small wages to support me;
and you must be very hungry; I shall wait
till you are done.”
“You speak kindly, my son,’’ replied the
pleased; father; “your love to me does me
more good than my (ood, and those eyes of
yours remind me of your dear mother who
has left us, and .who told you to love me as
she used to do; and, indeed, my boy, you
have been a great strength and comfort to me;
but now that 1 have eaten the first morsel to
please you, it is your turn to eat.” “Thank
you, father; but break this piece in two, and
take you a little more; for you see the loaf
is not large, and you require more than 1 do.”
“I shall divide the.loaf for you, my boy ; but
oat if LclKo-ll' oca ojui laJ
us thank God for his great goodness in giv
ing us food, and in giving us what is better
still, cheerful and contented hearts. He who
gave us the living bread from heaven to nour
ish our immortal souls, how shall He not give
all other food which is necessary to support
our mortal bodies?” The father and son
thanked God, and then began to cut the loaf
in pieces, to begin together their frugal meal.
But as they cut one portion of the loaf there
fell out several pieces of gold, of great value.
The little boy gave a shout of joy, and was
springing forward to grasp tho unexpected
treasure, when he was pulled back by his
father. “My son, my sonhe cried do not
touch the money j. it is not ours.” “But
whose is it father, if it is not ours?” “ I
know not as yet to whom it belongs; but
probably it is put there through some mistake.
We must inquire.” “But, father.” interrupted
the boy, “you are poor and needy, and you
bought the loaf, and the baker may tell a lie,
and—”
‘‘l will not listen lo you, my bdy ; I boughi
ihe loaf, but I did not buy the gold in it. If
the baker sold it to me,in ignorance, I shall
not be so dishonest a'S to lake advantage of
him ; remember Him who told us to do td
others as we would have others do to us.
The baker may possibly cheat us, but that is
no reason why we should try ami cheat him.
lam poor, indeed but that is no sin. If we
share the poverty of Jesus, God’s own, son,
oh ! let us share also the goodness and trust
in God. We may never be rich, but we may
always be honest. We may die of starva
tion, but God’s will be done should it be so!
Yes, my boy, trust God, and walk in his
ways, and you shall never be pul to shame.
Now run to Ihe baker, and bring him here ;
and I shall watch the gold until he comes.”
So the boy ran for the baker.
“Brother workman,” said the old man, you
have made some mistake, and almost lost
your money,” and he showed the baker the
gold, and told him how it had been found.
“Is it thiAe 1” asked the father, “if it is, take
it away.” “My father, baker, is very poor,
and”—“Silence, my child; put me not lo
shame by thy complaints. I am glad we
have saved this man from losing his money.
The baker had been gazing alternately upon
the honest father and his eager boy, and up
on the gold which lay glittering upon the
green turf. “Thou art, indeed, an honest fel
low," said the baker, “and my neighbor Da
vid, the flax dresser, spdke but the truth when
he said thou wert the most honest man in our
town. Now, I will tell the about the gold.
A stranger came to my shop three days ago,
and gave me that loaf, and told me to sell it
cheaply, or give it away to the honestest poor
man whom I knew in our city. I told David
lo send thee lo me as a customer, this morn
ing, and as thou wouldsl not take the loaf for
nothing I sold it to thee, as thou knowest for
the last pence in thy purse,and (he loaf, with
all i<s treasures—and certain, it is not small
—is thine, and God grant thee blessings with
it!” The poor lather bent his head to the
ground, while tears fell from his.eyes. His
boy ran and put his arms about his neck f and
said, “I shall olways be like you, my father
—trust God, and do what is right, for 1 am
sure it will never pul us to shame;”
PUBLISHERS & PROPRIETORS.
For the Agitator.
To A Tobob Friend,
M y dear young friend, just entering life
Wilh heart s« free rrom care; •
Wboknotys in Tulare life, if maro
Of joy pr grief be (here 7
If wish of mine could make it so.
Life on thy spirit's wing.
Should net/er prove a heavy load—
' Chaining to sense and sin.
Thy laughing eye and blushing cheek
Be unprefaced by leafs;
And thy pure, guileless heart ne’er feel,
The world's cold, heartless sneers.
Forgive me if one shade I cast
' Upon lliy vision bright: , .
If I in lave should tell you, Lift
Is but one ceaseless light.
- For Hie dark hours will surely pome.
E'en now storms may be nigh ;
Whither for pence and comfort then,
Will thy tried spirit fly 7
To the cold world whose hallow smile
Deceitful still mast prove 7
No, but to Heaven, that constant source '
Of comfort, peace and love.
Ah, yes 1 If jay or grief’s thy lot,'
W halc'cr fate will to Uico,
Let firm, unswerving trust in God
Thy better portion be. Aril*.
Northumberland , Pa.
GOMMBNICATJONS.
Common Schools.
To the School Directors, and citizens gene<
rally of TiOga county :
Gentlemen and LADtES. —You are all
interested in the public schools of your coun
try, and especially of your own town and
county. Having recently made a somewhat
minute examination of all the schools, with
a very few exceptions, it gives us much plea
sure, as indeed we regard it our duly, to lay
before you a few facta. These facts are es
sential to correct feeling and intelligent action
on the part of our people, and for this pur
pose they are put forth. We intend publish
ing an abstract, if not the whole of our re
port to the State Superintendent, embracing
such statistics as are provided for by the law,
together with such suggestions as our visita
tion shall bring to us in reference to our
school system. These we desire to lay be
fore our citizens through the county papers
when they shall all have come in our posses
sion. But these will not embrace what we
are now designing to communicate, nor will
ihey give to the reader much of the detail
which every friend of education will be pleased
to know. Our ride through the county com
menced before Ihe schools were all open and
has continued until some of them havp closed
for the summer. As nearly as we can con
clude we must have driven about nine hun
dred miles, perhaps a little over to gel to the
school houses of this county. Our visits
have been necessarily short at each school
house, as from the start wo had divided (he
whole certain lime of Ihe summer schools
equally between the twenty-nine districts of
the county, according to the number of their
schools ; ranging from half a day to three
days to a district. One plan has been to take
notes and statistics of all the schools. These
comprise the, whole and ihe average number
of scholars, the lexl books used and branches
taught, the grade of lire school house and
the teachers qualifications, guoged by figures
from one to live, indicating, very good, good,
middling, jioor, and very poor. When we
have seen anything requiring advice or any
suggestions, we have slopped a few moments
to question teacher and scholars, talk &c.
The manner of governing and the mode _of
leaching has been our greatest concern.
Punctuality, ordfir, quiet and love, or cheer
fulness, are the four cardinal doctrines, of a
good school. Where .these have abounded
we have never failed to find a good school.
- In our travels we have visited one hundred
and sixty five schools. We have been to
fifteen others and found the school out on ac
count of the teachers being sick or it being
Saturday, or our being a few minutes too late,
or as in three cases they had let out to wash
Ihe school house—and allow us here to say
that we have generally found the school
houses much neater, moro cheerful and liva
ble in the summer than the winter—the cause
you can all opine. There were eighteen
more schools the directors hod not yet started,
and there were nine which we have foiled to
reach on account of the limited lime we had
to do this work in. This gives two hundred
and seven schools for Tioga county, which is
about twenty moro than have'been reported
in previous years.
When we had completed’the lour through
a given district, we have endeavored to meet
the directors in some central location, to ex
amine such teachers as had not previously
received certificates either in their schools or
at a public examination; and also lo render
such assistance in their self sacrificing and
philanthropic duties as ivo might be able, or
they require. At these meetings we have
suggested many things respecting the wants
of our schools which need not be repeated
here.
It has not been our object to spy out the
nakedness of the land, and if some things in
our report shall be too deeply shaded for some
tastes, justice demands that the truth shout'd
be told in kindness —a part of that truth is
that whatever lethargy may still exist among
the people on this school question, we believe
there is more wakefulness now than ever be
fore. Whatever deficiency there is in school
house taste, furniture, or tho qualification of
teachers, that deficiency is being remedied
now faster than ever before. Let this hope
ful shading of our picture 'be borne in mind,
as wo proceed.in future letters lo sketch the
rest of it. ’ Yours truly,
Battling; lit Use and Abase.
- Sea bathing requireSjCaution to make U
useful and health imparting. Sir Arthur
Clark says : the manner, ol\ bathing; though,
a point of the firgt importance, seems by most
people, to be thought ,of no consequence l at.
all; but, lei the effect of bathing be coneid«
ered, and this indifference will appear in a
slropg light. By; Ihb compression of the
whole external surface of'the body which
takes place on judicious immersion, the falood
is carried on with'increased force to the heart,
and returned by the re-action with proportion
al impulse. By this increased action and ve
locity, the capillaries are opened, the sluggish
and tenacious humours loosened, aud the
whole system is invigorated ; but all this de
pends upon total and instant immersion. To
suppose that stepping into a bath, or wetting
the body by pans, will produce there effects
is Oh absurdity. Every thing beyond a sin
gle plunge is preventive of benefit. 'By con
linuing in the bath the body is robbed of its,
natural beat, reaction prevented; .the vessels
collapse,and transpiration by the natural chan
nel of the pores is suspended; obstructions
are confirmed, and paralysis is frequently in.
duccd. To leap from a height into the wa
ter is injurious. An easy and nearly hori
zontal position is the best for the moment of
immersion ; and the proper lime for bathing
is, when the Datura! inclination is the strong
est ; and this, generally speaking, will be af
ter considerable exercise, but short of produ
cing sensible perspiration or fatigue. Noth
ing can be more injurious than lingering on
the margin of the flood till the stagnating flu.
ids refuse to obey even the spur of immer.
sion. The bath should be used only once
every day. With regard to the exercise of
swimming, it should be of moderate-duration ;
when long continued, it has, in numerous in
stances, occasioned the loss of the use of
limbs, and not unfrequemly proved fatal, —.
Sir Arthur Clark seems conscious of tread
in on slippery ground when he advises ladies
ip dispense with dresses while bathing. An
encumbering dress, he says, not only injures
the primary influence, but, by clinging to tha
person, checks the glow which should be fell
on coming out of the bath, and in weak con
stitutions often totally prevents it. As tho
usual enclosure ensures perfect privacy, it
were to be wished that the imagination would
not conjure up a phantasmagoria of merely
ideal observers. Children should never be
dipped more than or.ee, and that with tho
greatest care; let the immersion bo deep, but
quickly done. The proper depth for general
bathing is about four feet and a half.
m. 4;
For the Agitator
b\ CALKINS,
1 Co, ib'upt.
Eloquent Brevity.
Once upon a time, in a certain city, there
lived a merchant, whose name is not at ail
necessary. Times were hard, as they are
now, and the merchant had received from one
of his customers at a distance, m answer to a
previous dun, a letter staling difficulties, and
requesting lime.
Agitated, not with that matter only, but
many others, the merchant paced the floor of
his counting room with arms behind his back,
and a lowering brow. Slopping suddenly,
he turned to the clerk and said :
“Mr. , write to that man immediately.’’
“Yes, sir.” The paper was ready, and
die pea filled with ink ; but still the mer
chant held his pace ; his clerk called to him
once or twice, and not receiving any answer,
left his stool and went to remind him that he
was ready.
“Well, write,”
“What shall I write?”
“Something or nothing, and that very
quick.”
Back to his desk went the clerk, rapidly
moving his fingers over the paper. The let
ter was sealed, backed and sent to the office.
By return of mail came a letter from his de
linquent customer inclosing the money in full
of his account. The merchant’s eyes glist
ened when he opened his letter, and hasten
ing to his desk ho said :
“What did you say to when you
wrote the other day ? Here is the money
this morning in full of his account.”
“I wrote just what you told me, and kept
a copy of the letter,” and going to his lettey
book and opening it, he found the follow,
ing:
“Dear sir:—Something or nothing, and
that very quick. Yours, dsc.,
By
And this letter brought the money.—Lou
isville Democrat.
Steam. —At a railway station, an old'lady
said to a pompous-looking gentiem who wai
talking about steam communication—" Pray,
sir what is steam ?”
“Steam, ma’am, is, ah I—steam is ch I ah!
—yes, steam is—steam !”
“1 knew that chap couldn’t tell ye,” said
a rough-looking fellow ; “'steam is a bucket
of water in a tremendous prespiration.”
A bov seven years of age, foil into ihe
Connecticut river, at Haydenville, a day or
two since, and was the Rev.' Mr.
Cook. On his way home, a person remarked
to him. “You got pretty wet, didn't you ?”
“Yes,” said the little one, but the man that
went in after me, got as bad a ducking as i
did 1”
“Sambo is your master a good farmer 7”
“Oh, yes, massa fuss rale farmer, he mako
two crops in the year.” “How is that, Sam
bo ?” Why he sell all his hay in de fall,
and make money once; den, in do spring, he
sell all de hides of de cattle dal die (or do
want ob de hay, and make money twise."
“You soy, Mrs. Jones that the prisoner
slabbed the deceased. Was it in the thorax
or in i he abdomen ?”
“No, sir, it was in the street—l seed it
with my own blessed heyes.”
“That will do. Call the next witness.
Not a bad guess. —During anniversary
time in New York, a boy asked his compan
ion what was the reason for so many Minis
ters meeting together every year!—The oth
er) confidently answered. “To exchange ser
mons to be sure.”
Queer. —To see a boarding school Miss
“afraid of a cow,” notwithstanding she “did
all.the milking to a few months p evious,—
Education is a great thing.