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4. Labor brings an eve of solace,
When my hands their toil forego,
And across my heart in silence
Cherished streams of memory flow.

5. Labor's tools make sweetest music,
As their busy echoes ring;
Loom and wheel and anvil ever
Have a merry song to sing.
















pro-fes-sion qual-i-fi-ca-tion



THEN I was a little boy, I remember, one cold winter's morning, I was accosted by a smiling man with an ax on his shoulder. "My pretty boy,' said he, has your father a grindstone?"-"Yes sir," said I.-"You are a fine little fellow," said he; "will you let me grind my ax on it?" Pleased with the compliment of "fine little fellow," "Oh yes, sir,' I answered; "it is down in the shop."


2. "And will you, my man," said he, patting me on the head, "get me a little hot water?" How could I refuse? I ran, and soon brought a kettle full. "How old are you? and what's your name?" con

tinued he, without waiting for a reply; "I am sure you are one of the finest lads that ever I have seen; will you just turn a few minutes for me?"

3. Tickled with the flattery, like a little fool, I went to work; and bitterly did I rue the day. It was a new ax, and I toiled and tugged till I was almost tired to death. The schoolbell rang, and I could not get away; my hands were blistered, and the ax was not half ground.

4. At length, however, it was sharpened, and the man turned to me with," Now, you little rascal, you've played truant; scud to the school, or you'll catch it!" "Alas!" thought I, "it was hard enough to turn a grindstone this cold day, but now to be called a little rascal is too much."

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5. It sank deep into my mind, and often have I thought of it since. When I see a man flattering the people, making great professions of attachment to liberty, who is in private life a tyrant, methinks, "Look out, good people! that fellow would set you turning grindstones."

6. When I see a man hoisted into office by party spirit, without a single qualification to render him either respectable or useful" alas!" methinks, "deluded people, you are doomed for a season to turn the grindstone for a booby."


accost, to call to. compliment, to praise.

continue, to go on. hoist, to raise.

rue, to mourn.
play truant, to
from school.
attachment, love.

run away


thought hand-some pleas-ant some-times

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Charlie Brown, what's the use of your working so all the time?" said Will Seymour,

a well-dressed, handsome boy, to a pale, dark-haired lad near his own age, who was chopping wood near a small cottage.

2. Charlie lifted his straw hat from his head, and wiped off the drops of moisture, and a sad expression for a moment passed over his usually sunny face.

3. He then said, in his honest way, "Why, Willie, the truth is, I must work: I have made up my mind to it, and it seems a great deal easier than it used to. I like to play as well as you do; but my mother is poor, and I am determined to help her all I can."

4. So said this brave little fellow of thirteen years; and, taking up his ax, made the chips fly; and his friend left him, saying, "Well, I'm sorry for you, Charlie; it's too bad for a boy to have to work so, and I'm sure I do not see what's the use."

5. Charlie worked away for an hour longer, and then, gathering his arms full of wood, went into the house. His mother looked up from her work with a sad but sweet face as the wood was laid down near the stove, and said, “Charlie, I am sorry you do not have more time for play."

6. "Well, mother," he replied, "sometimes I am sorry too; but then, again, I think if I can only help you and comfort you, now father is gone, I do not care for much beside. Father used to tell me, when he was well, that boys who had to depend upon themselves made the most useful men.

7. "I did not think much of it then; but since he died I have tried to do as I thought would please him, and work seems a great deal pleasanter and easier than it used to. I want to make a man that will be good for something, and take care of you, so that you can rest."


shriek a-broad









cir-cum-stance lam-en-ta-tion



HERE have been periods when the country heard with dismay that "the soldier was abroad." That is not the case now. There is another person abroad, a less important person, in the eyes of some. The schoolmaster is abroad! And I trust more to him, armed with his primer, than I do to the soldier in full military array, for upholding and extending the liberties of the country.

2. The adversaries of improvement are wont to make themselves merry with what is termed the “march of intellect." The conqueror moves in a march. He stalks onward with the "pride, pomp, and circumstance" of war, banners flying, shouts rending the air, guns thundering, and martial music pealing, to drown the shrieks of the wounded, and the lamentations for the slain.

3. Not thus the schoolmaster, in his peaceful vocation. He quietly advances in his humble path, laboring steadily till he has opened to the light all the recesses of ignorance, and torn up by the roots the weeds of vice. His is a progress not to be compared with any thing like a march; but it leads to a far more brilliant triumph.

4. Such men - men deserving the glorious title of

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