am talking, clap your hands together. Now I am silent. See how quickly you can fold your arms; look me in the eye and be perfectly silent for one minute;" I click the bell and note your watch. This trains them to promptness.

4. Accustom them to take their seats for recitation at the right moment, as indicated by the clock. This cultivates attention.

5. Give them a good deal of outside information on all sorts of topics, to liven them up all you can. Have them spell on slates.

Miscellaneous.-Offer no prizes. Read the record of the deportment and lessons on the afternoon of literary exercises once a week. Have the head and foot in spelling classes, besides slate spelling, have them toe the line and put their hands behind them. Have No. I take the floor and call No. 2 to come, etc. Have them number as they take their seats. Give a perfect mark for each good lesson. Make a specialty of map-drawing. Practice reading classes in the sounds of the letters. Have them learn abbreviations, Roman numerals, words pronounced alike, but spelled differently, etc. Draw figures on the blackboard and let the little children copy them on their slates, to keep them quiet. Let the little ones go out and play a good deal during study hours. Call the roll at the close of school and have them report "Correct, "if they have not been absent or tardy, then let the boy nearest the door go out when you call his name, and so on, having them leave one at a time, that there may be no confusion. Post up an order of exercises in a conspicuous place. Have everything systematized to the last degree. Make only four rules, namely: "Don't be tardy; don't leave seats without permission; don't be absent; don't whisper;" but wink at the latter unless it becomes too palpable. Have the whole school as far as possible read in concert, from time to time. Have the more mischievous ones sit alone and at a distance from each other. Make out a list of general questions for the whole school to answer, propound them to two divisions, if the house has four, and when they fail have the others respond, alternating in this way to stir their emulation and enthusiasm.

All my friends are very kind; they bring me flowers, write me notes, invite me out to tea and seem to be sorry that I am going hence. Am full of errands and last things to be done. Mary and I had just retired on Saturday night, when Mary Bannister and Kate, Han, and Mollie, and Charlie Smith, and Mr. Wood, and Watson with his melodeon formed in line under our window and they sang beautifully for my sake, because I am going away, "Auld Lang Syne," "Sweet Home," Good-by" and two or three other pieces. And I lay there very quietly, I who have not shed a tear since last September, and cried like a child while they sang.

Harlem, Cook County, Ill., June 5.—I could not write last night, I felt too desolate. After leaving home, walking from the Harlem station to my ugly, dismal, red school-house, through a marsh; riding through the flying mud, with some kind-hearted ladies, to my boarding-place to leave my trunk; walking more than half a mile back to my den-for it is nothing else, it is the most comfortless house I ever saw; going through the tiresome routine of teaching the A B C's, spelling, and the like; helping sweep out the schoolhouse-which is dirty beyond description, with broken windows, baked floor,

142

Inside and Outside Life.

and cobwebs mingled; walking home again, unpacking and arranging my effects, writing out my order of exercises, I sat down very tired and full of heartache. It is doubly hard for me because I have been sick and have done very little for a year, because home is so pleasant and everybody so kind to me. My head aches as badly as my heart to-night. Somehow I am afraid I can not bear it. Father came out from the city-it is only ten miles, though it seems a hundred-to bring me a bundle. I took it and turned away, saying in answer to his half cheerful, half sad words, "Keep up a brave heart and don't let it discourage you,” “Good-by, father, I am not afraid," but the tears blinded me so I could hardly see to go back to my teacher's desk again, and yet the people here don't know. These rough school directors don't dream that I am not exactly in ecstasy although I am teaching in "their deestrict," and they will not know either, never fear. I turned to God, the Heavenly Father, who presides over our destiny, with new eagerness. I prayed last night as I have not for many days, and went to sleep in the cold and dark and lonesomeness with a feeling that somehow the Arms that reach around the world enfolded me. If I can learn to look to Him and try always to obey Him, this bitter life will not have been in vain. Just now I took my Bible and it opened at the passage, "Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him,” and I could hardly see the words, the page became so blurred as I tried to look at it. Those who know my nature would understand that I am indeed getting my discipline, for I almost never cry, not once in a year, often not so frequently, and no one shall know save God, and you, book, that the inside and the outside life are vastly different, that while one is quiet, unaspiring and firm, the other is full of longing and heartache and misery. All this last I shall not write even in my letters home, for it will do me no good and will worry mother.

June 6.-Last evening had a pleasant talk with Clara Thatcher, the daughter of the house in which I board. Congenial outside surroundings are a great deal to me as yet. Looking at the case as hopefully as possible, I think Clara will make my boarding-place a pleasant one, for she is attractive and seems kind-hearted, but my school life is almost unendurable. I have twenty-seven scholars, five A B C-darians, the rest all under twelve years old, except two girls and one boy. The children are more than half German, the rest mostly Irish, except a few Americans, including Clara's two bright brothers. I have classes in botany, United States history, algebra, arithmetic and grammar. It is very cold to-day, and I have no material for making a fire. "It rains and the wind is never weary." The house leaks, my desk is wet and I am completely chilled. I can hardly hold the pen to write this about the life which I knew was coming to me. I must stay three hours longer and then walk home through mud that will come over my shoetops.

Evening, ten o'clock.-Am half ashamed of the dolorous tone in which the above is written, and yet I need not be, for it is all true, and in stating it here I made nobody unhappy with the consciousness that I was miserable. I only wrote it down for the future. After all, I have much to be thankful for. Billy Thatcher carried me to school and brought me back, and Clara

and I have had a very pleasant evening together. We have been talking science, art and books as well as we were able, and I find her highly intelligent. Her ideas in general seem just and broad. The part of my summer that I spend in her home will be pleasant and profitable. We have already planned to pursue together the following studies: entomology, conchology, aquarium-making, botany and herbarium-making, study of the constellations, drawing from copies, and the manual alphabet. Clara is quite skillful with her pencil, sketching from nature. I think there is something else, but here is enough for once. Clara is a senior in the Chicago High School classical course and we have in tastes and education many things in common. She is the last person I thought to find in this rude neighborhood, and I thank God for it humbly and sincerely, and will try to exert a good influence over this new friend of mine. I think she has not been reared religiously, and so I pray here in her room even as I try to in my morning devotions at school, and then go to sleep more peacefully and happily than I dreamed I could two days ago, or than I shall deserve to ever.

June 7.-In the school-house, half-past eight. Am quite content this morning and disposed to look with some complacence on my lot in life. My school will be thoroughly organized before the end of the week, and I shall not find it hard to teach, only wearisome. They are very kind at my boarding-place, and I am altogether comfortable there. Wrote a cheerful letter home last night. I asked two of my pupils in the Second Reader class why we have such a day as Christmas, when it occurs and what it commemorates. They said, "It comes sometime in cold weather, and we have it so we can hang up our stockings and get something nice." Beyond this they had not the faintest idea of the day.

Evening, ten o'clock.—Clara and I have been having a royal time ever since she came from the city on the six o'clock train. After supper we went walking to the Desplaines river where Clara wished to show me some of the scenes we are to sketch, then we walked up the railroad track and talked, and I had a beautiful time. We gathered bouquets of roses, and rosebuds which are better than blossoms, and after a walk of nearly two miles we returned and found the three directors waiting to examine my certificate. After they had dissected it, we came up to my room, traced constellations, I learned the manual alphabet, and now I am going to bed tired, but happy and thankful. But before I go I shall tell my troubles and joys to God, and pray Him to take care of all of us, especially the Four, until death us do part; nay, until after death.

June 4.-One thing particularly troubles me. I am afraid I do not try enough to influence Clara in the right direction. I am naturally thoughtless, and a playful remark with a hidden meaning which is irreverent does not meet in all cases a negative response, or silence even, but I see that I am inclined to laugh myself if the wit of the words is sufficiently apparent. But I have told her how I am trying, and am praying earnestly and have sincere wishes after righteousness in my heart. There is no church here, nor are there any Christian people, but the Infinite One is everywhere, and "His greatness flows around my incompleteness."

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Sabbath Away from Home.

Afternoon.-The scholars are more vexatious than t sual and I find it rather difficult to keep my temper, though I have succeeded thus far. The children overwhelm me with flowers, the desk is piled with them; they enliven this doleful place wonderfully. And alas! for me the time even now is when I must make comfort to myself out of roses and lilies instead of friends and home. One of my scholars had a fit in school and we all were frightened, but I was "schoolma'am" to the best of my ability.

Evening. I have not laughed so heartily in months as over a scientific result obtained by Clara and me this evening, and have been just as wild and thoughtless as I ever was at home. Clara is eighteen and her enthusiasm on the subjects we are to investigate together, awakens mine. Perhaps my life is not going to be so very hard, but I can not tell. One moment I am in the sunshine and the next I am in the shade; so delicate is my spiritual thermometer that from zero to summer day a pleasant breath of the sweet south wind will raise the mercury.

June 10.-Sabbath morning. Rose at nine o'clock, breakfasted, arranged my room, and am wondering at the strange day that I shall spend, so different from Evanston with all its Christian privileges. This family is not religious. There is no church that I can attend, no outward form of worship in which I can show the gratitude and love that fill my heart this beautiful day. I can see father and mother, sister and brother, in the old pew. I know they all have prayed that I might be shielded, strengthened and comforted by our God who is over all, blessed forever. Mother has wondered what I was doing to-day and has hoped in her heart that I might be happy and serene and that I might live and act like a Christian under whatever circumstances I may be placed. The younger members of this family have taken their pony and ridden off to the strawberry patch to spend the day. The proprietor sits in the library below with six or seven friends who have ridden out from the city; they are smoking their cigars and talking of horseraces, sporting, and the like. The mistress of the establishment is busy superintending the preparation of the Sunday dinner, for Mr. T. is a rich man and fares sumptuously every day. It is a queer Sabbath, I never spent one like it. God, help me to remember Thee and heaven and holiness while all around is of the earth, earthy. I have stayed in my room with Clara, read a little, talked with her the rest of the time. I do not know what I should do without her. She is a petted child, the only daughter, not used to thinking much of others' comfort, but she is very kind to me and marvelously thoughtful of my happiness. Clara and I did not go down to dinner, which was a comfort. Have read my favorite 119th Psalm with solid satisfaction.

Evening, June 11.-School has been positively zestful, my pupils enthusiastic and easily governed. The sun has shone and the sky has been as blue as a violet, and, best of all, I have had four letters from home.

June 12. My pupils have not been as studious or as easily governed as usual, to-day, and have troubled me greatly. Have been obliged to box the ears of two reprobates, ferule the brown palms of four, and lay violent hands on another to coerce him into measures that did not meet his views. All this I have done; I am sorry it became necessary, for I feel kindly toward them all

A Lonesome "School Ma'am."

J45

and never speak a harsh word only as they force me to do so by the total depravity they manifest in their conduct, and yet the little creatures bring me flowers and evince in many little actions a kind of regard for me that is most pleasant.

I have given these extracts showing what a young teacher once endured, because I know ten thousand others have had a similar experience, and I have hoped to bring somewhat of good cheer and courage to those as faint-hearted in their new endeavor as I was in mine so many years ago.

10

FRIVER

FOREST HOME FARM.