Mineral Point tribune. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1854-1858, 1854-12-27
nlisfelIallenns.
THE COUNTRY SCHOOL,
TIL E TEACHERS REWARD.
By AMANDA p. WALKER.


a missionary station; and every teacher
Is or ought to be, missionary; but alas
too often are they faithless and unprofita
bic servants; they enter thoughtlessly
upon the great work before them. forget
ting that the teachers influence will not
die at the school room door, but will live
on, and on forever. Whenever those little
one shall be scattered abroad over the
face of the earth. there will the teacher S
influence follow as guiding star or an
lgHuS fatUS tending to good or evil. Just
as the seed sown in the youthful mind
was genuine or corrupt
Who does not love to contemplate the
course of the faithful teacher, as it tends
onward and upward, through toll. trial.
aud discouragement, to the goal of the
blest? Those who love not the pleasant
task of giving instruction to the youthful
mind, aud cannot bring their whole soul
into the work, ought not to tamper with
the sacred calling Let them engage in
a business more congenial with their feel
lngs, and not dare for the sake of fame or
gold to stamp their unhallowed impress
on the plastic soul of youth for it is done
to the peril of both teacher aud taught.
One great requisite in the qualifca-
tions Of good teacher. IS mild persua-
sion, and unwavering decision of charac-
ter There is charm about a gentle
tone yet firm" that will chain the widest
spirit, and give 10 the most timid child a
( feeling of confding trust. The cords of
many a childish heart harp vibrate with
an untold thrill of glad emotion at the
sound Of such a voice a halo of cloudess
I beauty surrounds the presence of the
/ faithful teacher, aud hearts are made
/ happier and holier that come within the
sphere Of their influence.
/ | sat down to my writing table this af-
ternoon, with the intention of writing a
/ long story about two falnilies-one very
aristocratic the other very humble. chang
/ ing positions in life In pecuuiary point
of view; giving a full and detailed ac-
count of the causes which led thereto
but as I paused moment, to think. an
olden memory looked softly in upon my
heart a folding back the curtains of the
past the cottage and the villa, with their
occupants. both vanished in the viewless
air and the pleasant and instructive face
Of Uncle Jonas. as he sat in his great arm
chair, came and filed up the vacancy,
while his deep. measured words, with
their olden. thrilling sound fell harmoni-
ously on my ear.
| was In GrasSyvale once more. in that
old -honored. e-wreathed mansion
where | had spent so many happy hours,
listening to uncle Jonas stories of my
schoolmatcs aud teachers" How | loved
to draw that low kitchen chair" up close
beside his great arm chair, aud resting
my elbow upon one Of the low arms, list
en- with half closed eyes and dreamy
heart. till the sound Of his voice would
finally die away in u low half drawn sigh
as memory brought back all afresh, and
bright his boyish days again. And then
he would fall asleep, and sit there and
dream. muttering over in his slumber, the
story Of his schoolboy sports. and early.
sinless Joys. It was the memory of those
stories that fared ike golden CLEAN of
sunshine across my mental vision, and
50 adopting it for my theme. | have noted
II down. and herewith send it TO you, re-
spectfully iuscribing If to those who take
an interest in common schools. | will
imagine myself uncle Jonas, and tell the
story after his own fashion.
When Grassyvale was young that is
when | was. there stood an old school
house away down on the bank of the
brook among those syeamores, that you
see growing close by the new bridge, lit
must have been near a half century ago.
that there. in that rude structure, l com
menccd and finished my education.
We were . very happy set of lads and
Iasses. who went to school there long ago;
We had but a few books to study, and so
when the masters back was turned to-
wards me. I used to sit and study the
fair face of little blue eyed girl, who
sat directly opposite to me, and | learned
deeper lesson there. than [ could ever
have gathered from many books and
teachers. You smile. All l see what
YOU arc thinking of: yes, that little maid
en- Is your venerable aunt there; she Is
the same blue eyed girl to my heart now.
that she was then; but It was not all
about her had thought of telling you
Just now. it was about Joe Merrill "the
district plague" as they called him ; and
he gloried in the name He was a short
stout built lad with dark. restless eyes
and great profusion Of light brown mat
ted. curling hair. which seldom felt the
sweet influence of brush or comb, tossed
negligently back from his broad, full
forehead. which seemed to be crowded
with a mass of inventive genius concen-
trated there His face was. by nature,
very fair. but the brim of a hat seldom
shielded it from sun or wind. " hat
cared he how he looked. he was reckless
of that-a hat would be in his way when
climbing trees to hunt for bird nests-and
people would think him a coward if his
fana ,ras not Sunhurnt His short tat
hands were always stained with the juice
Of berries and nut bark; and then he
would laugh. until the tears started into
his eyes. to see the little girls run when he
offered to shake hands with them. When
any mischief was done IN the school-room,
Joe was suspected as the author and pun
ished. and his hands were scared and
blistered with the ferule all over the
palms Corporeament punishment was
an old story with him and his hands be-