The little scholars have been reading some of "Mary Howitt's tales;" "The Cousins in Ohio;" and the "Life of Robert Swain," which is very interesting. We are all very busy with Arithmetic, and as each one gets through any difficult section, we receive a pictured card as a sort of certificate. The little ones have been learning the Multiplication Table, and one of them had a cunning little slate given to her, for reciting perfectly at the fortnight's review.
Last Saturday we all went into town with our teacher, to see "Bayne's Panorama of a Voyage to Europe," and we had to write a description of it for our composition. We had a very pleasant time and it was very beautiful; though I can remember but little about the scenes, they came so fast one after another. We all liked the storm at sea, the icebergs, and the views on the river Rhine very much; but we think Banvard's Panorama of the Mississippi was the best. As we had been writing a description of the Telegraph, we stopped at a place where it was made, examined all the different parts, and had them explained to us; and some of these days we are to see a message sent to New York.
You ask me to tell you everything, so I will end my letter, by relating an event which took place in our school-room. As we were all sitting round the fire, studying our lessons, down tumbled the stove-pipe with a tremendous noise, scattering soot in every direction. Fortunately no one was hurt; but we were all very much frightened. We had a longer play time than usual, while a man was repairing the damage.
P.S. I forgot to tell you that I went to see a little play performed, called "Old Poz." We had a fine time, for all the characters were well dressed and the parts were well acted. We did not have much scenery, but that was no matter, we had such a grand curtain. After the play we had a young "Indian Girl," in complete costume, and "The three Sisters of Scio," which puzzled the audience very much indeed. I went to bed later than usual, but I had all my lessons perfect the next day; so I do not think it did me any harm. But if you do not like such things, I will not go again.
With a kiss, I remain
Your Affectionate Daughter,
Polly Prippets
PARODY ON THE MOWER'S SONG.
When early morning's ruddy light
Bids man to labor go,
We haste, with faces fresh and bright,
Our early walk to go.
Chorus.