Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1881-03-18

PLAIN TALK WITH MY SEPHEWS.
BY JAMES T. FIELDS.
Lei me tell you, my dear lads, some of
the things l would do if L were boy
again.-some of the too-often neglected
acts | would strive to accomplish if it
were in my power to begin all over anew
Tl,is paper was written expressly for
you young fellows who are beginning to
think for yourselves, and are not averse
10 hearing what an old boy, who loves
You, has to say to his younger fellow
students.
When We are no longer young We look
back and see where We might have done
better and learned more, and the things
We have neglected rise up and mortify us
every day of our lives. May l enumer-
ate some of the important matters, large
and small, that. if | were boy again,
would be more particular about?
| think | would learn to use my LETT
hand Just as freely as my right one, SO
that. if anything happened to lame either
of them, the other would be all ready to
write and ''handle things" Just as if
nothing had occurred. There is no reason
in the world why both hands should not
he educated alike. \ little practice would
soon render one set of fingers Just as eI-
pert as the other and / have known peo-
pile who never thought, when a thing
was to be done. which particular hand
ought to do it, but the hand nearest the
object took hold of it and did the office
desired
| would accustom myself to go about
in the dark. and not be obliged to have
lamp or candle on every occasion. Too
many of us are slaves to the daylight,
and decline to move forward an inch un-
less everything is visible. One Of the
most cheerful persons l ever knew was
blind old man. who had lost his sight by
an accident at sea. during early manhood
lie went everywhere, and could find
things more easily than l could. When
his wife wanted a spool of cotton, or a
pair OF scissors from up stairs, the gallant
old gentleman went without saving a
word, and brought it. He never asked |
any one to reach him this or that object, |
but seemed to have the instinct of know
ing Just where il was and how to get at |
it,
Surprised at his power Of finding
things, l asked him one day for an expla-
nation and he told me that, when he
was boy on beard a vessel, it occurred
to him that he might seme time or other
he deprived of sight, and he resolved to
begin early in life to rely more on sense
of feeling than he had ever done before.
And SO he used to wander, by way of |
practice, all over the ship i'll black mid |
night. going down below, and climbing
around anywhere and everywhere, that
he might in case of blindness, not be-
come wholly helpless and of no account |
in the world In this way he had educa-
ted himself to do without eyes when it |
became his lot to live sightless man.
| would learn the art Of using tools of |
various sorts. | think | would insist on |
learning some trade, even if / knew there |
would be no occasion to follow it when l |
grew up. What n pleasure 1t Is, IN after |
life, TO be able TO make something. as the |
saving is to construct a neat box to |
hold ones pen and paper; or pretty |
cabinet fer n sisters library; or to frame |
favorite engraving for Christmas pres
ent to q dear, kind mother. What a loss
not to know how 10 mend chair that re-
fuses to stand up strong only because IT
needs few tacks and a bit of leather
here and there Some of us cannot even
drive n nall straight and, should we at
tempt 70 saw off m obtrusive piece of
wood. ten TO one We should lose a finger
in the operation.
1t is a pleasant relaxation from books
and study TO work an hour every day in
a tool-shop; and my friend, the learned |
and lovable Prof Oliver Wendell Holmes,
finds such comfort in ''mending things"
his active brain needs repose, that he |
sometimes breaks Il piece of furniture on |
purpose that he may have the relief Of
putting it together again much better
than it was before. He is as good me-
chanic as lie is a poet but there is moth
ing mechanical about his poetry, as you
all know who have read his delightful |
pieces. An English author of great re-
pute said to me, not long ago, Professor |
Holmes is writing the best English of our |
time And | could not help adding, |
"Yos, and inventing the best stereo- |
scopes, toor
| think 1 would ask permission, if | |
had happened to be born in n city, to |
have the opportunity Of passing all my
vacations in the country, that | might
learn the names Of trees and flowers and
birds We are, rs people, sadly igno-
rant of all accurate rural knowledge.
We gness at many country things, butwe
are certain OF very few.
II ~ lItAtuSdDlc III person IKE my
amiabie neighbor Simpkins, who lives
from Nay to November on farm Of sixty
....., Il. a helGtiful wooded country, not
10 know a maple from beach, or n bobo-
link from a bird. He once handed me
bunch of pansies, and called them vio-
lets, and on another occasion he mistook
sweet-peas for geraniums
What right has human being while
the air is full of bird music, to he wholly
ignorant Of the performers name When
We go to the opera We are fully posted up
with regard to all the principal singers,
and why should we know nothing Of the
owners of voices that transcend the vocal
powers OF Jenny Lind and Christine Nil
son?
boy ought also to be at home in a
barn, and learn how to harness horse,
tinker up a wagon, feed the animals, and
do hundred useful things, the expert
ence Of which may be of special service
to him III aftcr-life as an explorer or a
traveller when unlocked for emergencies
befall him. ! have seen an ex-President
of the United States, when an old man,
descend from his carriage, and rearrange
buckles and straps about his horses when
an accident occurred, while the clumsy
coachman stood by in kind of hopeless
inactivity, not knowing the best thing to
he done. The ez-President told Inc he
had learned about such matters on n farm
in his boyhoOd, and he was never at loss
for remedies on the road when his car
riage broke dowu.-From "tJtdcr-
LcHsH"