| Vol. II.—No. 76. | Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. | Price Four Cents. |
| Tuesday, April 12, 1881. | Copyright, 1881, by Harper & Brothers. | $1.50 per Year, in Advance. |
BABES IN THE WOOD—A TABLEAU.
[HOW SHALL I MAKE A LIVING?]
"What business shall I follow?" is the question every young man and boy asks himself; "how shall I make a living?" and the best answer is, "By learning some useful trade." Nearly all the good men who have succeeded in life have begun in this way. Benjamin Franklin went to Philadelphia from Boston. He was a printer by trade, very skillful and industrious. But when he reached Philadelphia, tired, feverish, and weak, he had only a few pence to spend. He bought three pennies' worth of rolls at a baker's, and as he could not eat them all, carried a part under his arm. As he passed a house in Market Street he saw a young lady on the stoop, who was afterward his wife. He soon found employment at a printer's, and attracted the notice of the neighbors by working late at night when others were asleep. "That young man," they said, "is sure to succeed." He drew business from his rivals, and made money. He studied, and became a fine writer; he never ceased to work. He drew the lightning from the skies with a kite, and he aided in forming our republic. He lived to a great age, in good health, useful to his fellow-men, prosperous, and happy, because he had learned a trade.
George Washington was poor in his youth. He went to a country school, and then learned to be a surveyor. As a boy he was always ready to work, and passed his youth in the wild woods of Virginia measuring land. When he became a man he defended his country and made it free. He was always fond of farming, and passed his later years in that pursuit. The habits of labor and accuracy he had formed in his youth made him what he was. Had he never learned to be a surveyor, he would probably never have been of use to his fellow-men.
Another of these useful Americans was Robert Fulton. Almost every one travels on steamboats or crosses the ferries; but how few remember who it was that first made the steamboat a common thing. Robert Fulton was its real inventor. He became a mechanic when he was a boy, and was never tired of visiting workshops. Afterward he learned to draw and paint, but all his life he was still a mechanic, inventing useful machines. He improved canals, and made boats that moved under water. At last, in 1807, he built the first steamboat that was successful. One night the people on the banks of the Hudson were startled by the sudden appearance of a fiery monster, whose panting breath sounded along the shore. It seemed to breathe out great clouds of fire and smoke. It shook the smooth surface of the water, and sailed against wind and tide. It was evidently a demon. The sailors on board the sloops of Esopus fled from it as it came along: nothing like it had ever been seen before. But it was only the Clermont, Fulton's first steamboat, that had begun its trips between Albany and New York. The first voyage was made in about a day and a half; the sloops sometimes spent a week or two in getting to Hudson.
The advantage of a trade is that it exercises the body and makes the mind active. It produces a sound mind in a sound body. Franklin was fond of swimming, and would sometimes float for a long time in the Delaware. He found that he wanted change after setting type. The machine-shop, the engineer's room, or the carpenter's and mason's occupation, probably give sufficient exercise, but even this should be varied. One of the best employments for young men is farming. They may go out to the great West and settle on the rich lands that are offered them by the government, and help to feed the Europeans, or they may take a small farm of a few acres near a city and raise vegetables and fruits. They should first learn how to farm by beginning early to work for some intelligent farmer. There is no occupation pleasanter than this if well understood, and none that produces a more certain profit. Manufactures of different kinds also offer a sure employment for the young and strong, and stores and counting-houses are everywhere open.
Among the famous inventors are Arkwright, Watt, and Whitney, all of whom were brought up in workshops. Arkwright invented a machine for spinning cotton; he was a poor workman, laboring at his trade, and at first all his efforts to complete his invention failed. He was very poor, but he was never discouraged, and at last his spinning-jenny was used in every factory in England, and made his fortune. Watt, a young engineer, worked upon the steam-engine until he made it a useful and wonderful machine. From a poor boy he became a member of the once famous firm of Boulton & Watt. Whitney, born in Connecticut, invented the cotton-gin after long labors; it brought American cotton into use at once, and made the nation and Whitney rich together. These are only a few of the remarkable men who have risen to great usefulness in trade. Among the noted citizens of New York nearly every one has been trained in a workshop. Astor, Vanderbilt, Stewart were skillful workmen in their different occupations; Peter Cooper was a careful mechanic. It is easy to see how much better off every young man or boy would be if he had a regular trade.
But he should never forget that at the same time he should get as much knowledge as he can. Knowledge teaches men to be gentle, honest, pure, and bold, and, well used, it leads them to the surest success in life. The boy that learns most is sure to be the most valuable to his employers. It was because he studied mechanics so carefully, as a boy, that Fulton invented the steamboat; because he learned, in his youth, to write well and think, that Franklin became useful to every one. Every boy and young man should spend two or three hours each day in study. He should love history, poetry, and perhaps music, and in his conduct avoid everything that is gross and vile. In this way he is certain to lead a happy, prosperous life, useful to all around him. He will make a good son and father, brother, friend, and citizen.
[INDIAN CORN: A LEGEND.]
BY BENSON J. LOSSING.
The unwritten and sometimes pictorial literature of the North American Indians abounds with much poetic thought. The creations of their dark minds in meagre language often assume the forms of really beautiful legends, especially those which relate to the origin of created things—thunder, wind, and rain; the sun, moon, and stars; beasts, birds, and fishes; grain, fruit, and flowers; and the races of men. These constitute the fabric of their narrow mythology.
One of these legends tells us that a youth, the son of a sachem living on the borders of one of our great lakes was impelled by a thirst for wisdom to go far into the forest, where hunters seldom trod, to a sunny savanna, to fast and pray in solitude. It was early in May, when song-birds had just returned with the south wind, and were beginning to warble their love ditties.
There the youth built for himself a lodge, and covered it with the odorous sprays of the balsam-fir, leaving a wide opening for the admission of light. He painted his face in sombre colors, and like the old Christian hermits, who sought the favor of Heaven by penitential humiliation in the solitude of the desert, this pious barbarian prince sought light and knowledge in this lonely spot, in humble obeisance of body and soul before the Master of Life. To the Great Spirit he prayed for some bounteous gift for the benefit of his race.
Day and night this youth fasted, until, famished and weak, he lay down in his lodge at noonday, and slept. Toward evening he awoke, and looking up through the opening in the boughs above him into the blue depths of the heavens, he saw descending from the azure vault the form of a beautiful young man robed in a bright green garment, his head adorned with plumes of green and gold colors. Standing at the door of the lodge, this embodied spirit said:
"Arise, faithful boy, and come forth. Only by wrestling with me can you obtain the coveted blessing which you seek. I am Oneasti [Maize], a child of the Sun, and a friend of mankind."
The weak youth obeyed. The evening sunlight spread a delicious glow over the dark forest and the little prairie, casting long shadows from the woods across the springing grass and the timid flowers, then first beholding the face of their great King and Creator. So soon as the youth touched his celestial visitant, moral strength that gave promise of victory in the contest thrilled his whole being. For an hour they wrestled, when the dusky prince, with bodily strength exhausted, retired to his lodge for repose.
The next day Oneasti again summoned the youth to the wrestling. Greater than before was his moral strength, and Hope bade him persevere. Again, on the third day, did the wrestlers contend, with the same result, when Oneasti said:
"To-morrow will be the seventh day of your fast, and the last time I shall wrestle with you. You will triumph over me, and gain your wishes. As soon as you have thrown me on the ground, strip off my garments, and bury me on the spot in soft fresh earth. When you have done this, leave me for a while, but come occasionally to visit my grave, and keep the noxious weeds from growing upon it. Once or twice cover me with fresh earth."
Oneasti then vanished, but the next morning he stood at the door of the lodge, and again summoned the young prince to combat. Long they contended. In the struggle the strength of the youth continually increased, until he threw Oneasti on the ground. Then he faithfully obeyed the instructions of his celestial friend. Carefully removing the tender greensward, he laid the body of the vanquished in the earth, and covered it with fresh, well-pulverized mould. Then he returned to his home, his face radiant with joy as the undoubted heir to a great treasure.
The young prince soon returned, and was delighted to see the green plumes of the heavenly stranger springing up from the earth through the soft mould, but contending with unsightly weeds for the privilege of light and air. These incumbrances to growth were removed, and the earth around was kept fresh and clean. In due time the youth was charmed by the vision of a stately plant, taller than himself, surmounted with tassels of flowers of clustered spikes, and bearing delicious fruit incased in sheaths of long leaves, and lined with silk. When the frost season approached, this fruit became hard, golden-hued grain, containing most nutritious food for man and beast. The plant gracefully waved its long leaves and golden tassels in the autumn wind.
"Come," said the young prince to his parents, on a soft October day, "and I will show you a great blessing from the Master of Life."
They followed him to the sunny savanna, where hoar-frost lay hidden in shaded nooks. They pounded the golden grains, and made cakes from the flour thereof.
"It is Men-du-min, the grain of the Great Spirit," said the father.
They invited their friends to a feast on the excellent grain, and there were soon great rejoicings among many nations because of the boon. It was Maize. When Europeans came, centuries afterward, they called it Indian Corn. It proved to be as great a blessing to them as it had been to their barbarian neighbors. To-day it is the food of thousands of Christians and pagans, civilized men and savages, from the Gulf of Mexico far toward the frigid zone. It is indeed Men-du-min—the grain of the Great Spirit.
[NEXT SUMMER.]
BY LAURA LEDYARD.
Beautiful things there are coming this way
Nearer and nearer, dear, every day—
Yes, closer and closer, my baby.
Mischievous showers and faint little smells
Of far-away flowers in far-away dells
Are coming in April, my baby.
Sly little blossoms that clamber along
Close to the ground till they grow big and strong
Are coming in May, little baby.
Roses and bees and a big yellow moon
Coming together in beautiful June,
In lovely midsummer, my baby.
Pretty red cherries, and bright little flies,
Twinkling and turning the fields into skies,
Will come in July, little baby.
Feathery clouds and long, still afternoons,
Scarce a leaf stirring, and birdies' soft croons,
Are coming in August, my baby.
Glimpses of blue through the poppies and wheat,
And one little birthday on fast-flying feet,
Will come in September, my baby.
[EASTER-EGGS.]
BY MARY A. BARR.
The giving of an egg as a mark of friendship or love is almost as old as the ark, of which it is a symbol; for the ancients used it as a sign of resurrection, and brought eggs to the altars of their gods as gifts.
Placed on the Passover table of the Jews, it means the destruction of the whole race and its resurrection. The Druids used it in their ceremonies, and the Persians present it at the New Year. A Russian will salute you on Easter morning with "Christ is risen," and offer you his Easter-egg; and what is still stranger, the Mohammedan will do the same. And, my dear little readers, when you break your egg at breakfast, you are doing just what the Greek and Roman boys and girls did centuries ago, for they began the first meal of the day with eggs; and egg-cups resembling ours have been found in Pompeii; only they preferred the egg of the pea-hen or Egyptian goose.
Easter-Monday is the proper time for the presentation of peace eggs, and to prepare them is always a work of love; for if they are given as reminiscences of ourselves, then we should be very careful that they are both tastefully and appropriately made; and if they are intended as a means of instruction (as they first were), then don't be tempted to put Cupids or ridiculously grouped flowers or fruits on what should be plain and yet well done. For instance, I once saw an Easter-egg with a text from the Bible on one side, and a Cupid throwing kisses on the other, and it was painted by a person who ought to have known better.
When you are preparing them, stop and think what will be most suitable for sister Lucy or brother John. An egg with butterflies and flowers would be utterly thrown away on Lucy, who is three years old; she would much rather have one that is striped with many colors. But sister Ann, who is eleven, would prize one with butterflies, forget-me-nots, and rose-buds; while John, who is fourteen, would like his with a horse, dog, bat and ball, bicycle, or almost anything that represents his pleasures.
All these are easily done if you are at all skillful with your brush or pencil, and if not, then you may know of some one who would be glad to make a few cents preparing them for you. I know of one little girl only twelve years old who made seven dollars last year painting Easter-eggs for ten cents apiece.
And there are lots of other ways, too. Eggs boiled in logwood will be a rich purple, and then you may scratch with a penknife any design you like. You can wrap an onion-skin around them, and they will be beautifully mottled, or a piece of chintz, or anything that is bright-colored and will fade. I have one that was colored with ribbons in this way that is very pretty.
Another way of preparing the eggs is to plunge them into hot water for a few moments, and then to write with tallow a name or draw an ornament on the shell. The egg is then boiled in water containing any colored dye or solution, and the color will not attach itself to the shell in any part which has been covered with grease, and consequently all ornaments will appear white. An egg with a text of Scripture on one side, and the flower that is sacred to Easter-Monday—that is, the star-of-Bethlehem, or marsh-marigold—drawn on the other with tallow, and then dyed purple with logwood, would make a very pretty gift for your Sunday-school teacher.
OLD EASTER-EGG NOW IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
Sometimes the surface of the egg is divided into spaces, to be filled up according to the taste and skill of the designer. One may contain the name and age, another a landscape, the third a good wish, the fourth, if you have so divided it, a likeness or flower. In some parts of England eggs simply dyed and dotted with tallow are presented to the Junior Class at college, and in Germany they have a way of adorning eggs with foliage, all in transparent work, which is cut out with aqua fortis. In Rome, the Easter-eggs are carried to the parish priest, who blesses them, and sprinkles them with holy water, and on Easter-day at dinner the cloth is adorned with sweet herbs and flowers, and the first thing eaten are the blessed eggs; they are painted by the nuns, and sold in the streets.
In New York, fancy candy eggs are to be had in the confectioners'; but those we make ourselves are worth twice as much, even if we are not artists enough to decorate them alone, but are forced to use decalcomanie, chintz, or onions.
There are some Easter-eggs that have come down to us in history; and who can be sure that the ones you are making this year may not lead to great things. So, children, be careful that if you give an Easter-egg, it bears no sorrowful or unhappy memory, and that in after-years you will not be ashamed to own it as yours.
Not many of you can give a silver one, as Charles the Second did to one of his favorites, nor will there be many who can make them as beautiful as that shown in the engraving, which is copied from one in the British Museum, that was presented to a lady of high rank nearly two hundred years ago. It was sawed open, the inside of the shell being cleaned and dried, and then lined with gold paper, and decorated with the figures of saints done in silk. It opens and shuts, and is tied together with green ribbons. But if this is beyond your power or skill, you can at least make an Easter offering of your own design that will be much more acceptable to your friends.
[A PASSING CLOUD.]
BY M. J.
A little cloud went slowly sailing
Across the sunny sky;
A woful little-wind went wailing
Through the tree-tops high:
A sudden sunbeam danced across the shadows,
And so the shower went by.
A little frown came stealing after
A gusty little sigh;
A pearly tear-drop drowned the laughter
Of a merry eye:
A sudden smile danced in the baby dimples,
And so the shower went by.