Sunbury American. [volume] (Sunbury, Pa.) 1848-1879, 1867-01-05
Pasturing Children.

One of the ordinary events of spring in the
country is the sending off to pasturage Cor
the season, droves of young cattle; kept in
stalls or cooped up in oozy yards, fed upon
husks and hay through the long winter and
spring, they are released at last and, on
some sweet May morning, are driven away
in frolicsome herds to the mountain pastures
where, feeding upon the tender grasses and
drinking the hillside water, and roaming
and revelling at will, they remain until the
autumn frosts drive them home for food and
shelter. They go out thin, shaggy and dirty;
they return sleek and plump, and ready
either for the knife of the butcher, or for
domestic service. 1t is in the pasture that
the cattle and colts grow. They get muscle
and health by roaming and feeding and
sleeping in the open air.
Now, in one respect, children need to be
regarded and treated as young animals
Their particular business is to grow, and
grow healthily and soundly. Among the
many obligations which parent owes to
the child he has called into existence, not
the smallest is that of giving him, to the ex-
tent of his ability to do SO, a sound and well
developed body. Without this wealth is Of
little worth, or splendid intellectual gifts, or
fine accomplishments, or excellent education.
Without this, he can be of comparatively
little use to the world, and of little comfort
to himself with it, he can BE both useful and
happy. If, therefore, country air and country
exercise and food are essential to the sound
development of the child, he should have
them, even at the expense of some of those
possessions which parents are SO apt to over
rate, and so covetous to secure for their off
spring. Let the children be taken to pasture,
then, as regularly as the calves and colts,
while we tell with some detail what the
process will do for them.
OF the benefits of fresh country air to the
young organism, little needs to be said.
They are very obvious. Pure air is the
special pabulum of vitality. 1t gives life to
the blood, and is sent warm and red into
every fibre of the body. Impure air poisons
life at the fountain. The frightful aggregate
of infant mortality in the great cities, shows
how baneful impure air is to delicate young
life. Adult life is less sensitive 1t can re-
sist wonderfully, the poisons which it inhaes
with every breath but children sicken and
| die at its side by hundreds and thousands
! every year. A man and his wife bred in the
country, or even bred in the city, may live
to good age, and enjoy comfortable health
in town, while they are called upon to mourn
the mysterious death of every child born to
| them, or to watch with ceaseless anxiety
| over puny brood of babes that carry into
their adult life the feeblest powers of mind
and body. There is no question that men
and women can live in air that children
must die in or rather, that they die very
slowly in an atmosphere in which children
die very quickly.
The next benefit that comes to children al
pasture, is free and universal exercise. DR.
Dio Lewis has contrived, with great ingenui
| ty, a series of exercises which will bring into
action and development every voluntar.
muscle of the human organism but nature
is better counsellor than DR.. Lewis. Wha
he teaches us to do by study and painstakins
and labor, from an intelligent motive, sh,
impels us to do in the simple search TO
amusement, in every playful manifestation
of life. The boy left free to play in the field
and woods will, in a single day, run NOR
miles and exercise healthtully more muscle
: than could be matched by the eight gym
nastics" of week. This he does in pur
sport. Running, climbing, riding, swim
, ming, rowing, tossing batting, jumping
: wrestling, fishing, see-sawing, rolling an
tumblng' day after day there is not a mu.
Gle in his little body that he does not brin
, into play, without motive that urges iror
} behind, and solely for the qualification ofhi
greed for amusement. Nowhere can he &C
! this free and full exercise except in til
country. 1t is impossible in a city. A chill
that undertakes anything more than wal
: in the street, gets kicked by passenger, c
run over by a horse; and back yards al
largely devoted to rubbish and clothes linc
. Timothy Iitcomb, an Hours at Home.