A SECOND DAY
 
IN
 
MARY CARROW’S SCHOOL.

Second Day.
Carry Deacon and her little Sister, looking at the ducks.

☞ No books are published by the American Sunday-School Union without the sanction of the Committee of Publication, consisting of fourteen members, from the following denominations of Christians, viz. Baptist, Methodist, Congregationalist, Episcopal, Presbyterian and Reformed Dutch. Not more than three of the members can be of the same denomination, and no book can be published to which any member of the Committee shall object.

A cool, rainy morning. The boys and girls all came to school with thick shoes on, and coats and shawls to protect them from the wet. When Mary came, she told her scholars she was glad to find the rain had not kept them at home. Mary smiled, and looked around to see if they had all come, and she counted. Charles Linn and Harry Linn, 8and their sister Lucy. Lily Forester, and her brother Eddy. Susan Field, and Ellen Raby.

All here, but Carry Deacon. Mary said, “Who can tell why Carry has not come to school? I do not like to miss one of my little scholars. I like to have them all with me.”

No one could tell why Carry had not come. Mary then helped the smaller scholars to take off their coats and shawls; and she showed them how to hang up their wet things to dry on the pegs in the entry; and she bade them put their umbrellas into a pail, which stood by the door on purpose to receive them. Mary asked if they had all brought their dinners? And one said, “I 9have brought mine.” And another said, “We have brought ours.” And Mary said, “We have brought ours.” It was not far for Mary and the Linns to go home to dinner; but she liked to indulge her scholars when she could, and she knew she could not please them better than to stay and dine with them on rainy days.

The boys and girls put their dinner-baskets into a little closet outside the school-room door; and then Mary rang her bell—the signal that it was time to collect. While they were putting their dinner-baskets away, Harry Linn said to Lily Forester,

“Lily, are you glad it’s a rainy day? I am.”

Lily said, “I am glad, too.”

10“Harry, what have you got for dinner?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “Mary put up our dinner while I was looking at father when he was getting into the wagon.”

“I’ll tell you what I’ve got, Harry,” said Lily; “a little pie with my name on it! Do you remember about Anne Lyle, and the little pie with her name on it? I told mother about it, when I went home, and she said if I was a good girl, she would make me a little pie, and put my name on it. Look here, Harry. I will show you.” And Lily lifted up the cloth that was over their dinner, and there was a little patty-pan pie, with L. F. plainly stamped on it.

Harry said, “How nice that is! Will you give me some of it, Lily?”

11And Lily told Harry she would cut it in halves at dinner-time, and give him the largest half.

Mary rang her little bell again, and Harry and Lily went into school.

While the scholars were taking their seats, Carry Deacon arrived. She was very wet, and her face was red; and she looked fretted and tired. Mary said,

“I am glad to see you, Carry; but what is the matter? How did you get so wet?”

Carry told Mary her umbrella was broken, and it did not keep the rain off.

“You are so wet, Carry,” said Mary, “that I fear you will be sick; and you are too far off from home to be sent back in the rain.”

Mary thought a minute what she should 12do, and then she told Charles Linn, (who was the largest boy in the school,) to run home to his mother, and ask her to please to lend a pair of Lucy’s shoes and stockings, for a little girl to wear, who had come to school very wet. Charles Linn was an obliging, lively boy, and he ran off at once. While he was gone, Mary took off Carry’s wet shawl, and sent her into the little room adjoining the school-room, to wash her face and her feet. There was a pitcher of water out in the little room, and soap, and a basin, and a cup, and a towel. Before Carry had done washing her feet, Charles Linn came back with the dry shoes and stockings. Then Mary went out to Carry, and she helped her to put them on. And she took a little pocket comb out 13of her pocket, and combed Carry’s hair smoothly, and then brought her into school. Mary was sure Carry had done something wrong, but she did not ask her about it, because Carry always told the truth. Mary thought she would be very kind to Carry, and then Carry would perhaps come and tell her about the mishaps of her walk to school, without being asked. Carry was a very giddy, careless little girl, and she sometimes forgot to do as she was told, when she did not really mean to be naughty.

This was Grammar morning; and while Mary attended to the grammar-class, Harry, and Lily, and Ellen Raby, looked over their spelling-lesson.

Charles Linn was at the head of the grammar-class. 14Mary asked Charles if he could tell her what a Noun was? Charles said, a noun was the grammatical name of any thing that we could see, or feel, or taste, or smell. Mary asked the scholar who stood next in the class, to point to something in the room which was a noun. She pointed to a book, and Mary said, “That is right.” Then Mary asked the next one, why book was a noun, and her little scholar could not tell. The one who stood below her answered. She said, book was a noun because we could see it; and she went above the girl who had missed. Mary said to one, “Think of a noun which you can taste, and tell me what it is.” And he answered, “Apple.”

Carry Deacon was the one who had missed, 15and Mary asked Carry to think of something which she liked to look at and play with. Carry said, “Kittens.”

“Now tell me, Carry, what a noun is?”

Carry answered, “A noun is the name of any thing that we can see.”

“Then what is a kitten?”

“O, now I know,” Carry said. “Kitten is a noun, because I can see it.”

Mary questioned her scholars until she thought they understood all about a noun; and then she told them, the next grammar-lesson would be the Adjective.

“Now you may take your seats,” Mary said, “and look over your reading-lesson, while I hear the little ones spell.”

Harry Linn, and Lily Forester, and Ellen 16Raby, said a spelling-lesson; and there were some words in their lesson which Mary explained to them, because they did not understand what these words meant. Ellen Raby spelled Wild Deer, and she asked Harry Linn if he knew what a wild deer was? Harry said, “I guess it is a goat. Let us ask Mary.”

Mary told them it was not a goat, and she would see if she could find a picture of a wild deer to show them. She had a large book, full of pictures; and there were horses, and cows and goats, and many different kinds of animals in it.

Mary soon found a picture of a wild deer, and all the scholars wished to come and look at it. She told them they might come. 17And they asked her to please to tell them something about a wild deer. Mary told them, that the part of America where they lived, and where the school-house stood, was once a great forest of trees, where only Indians lived, and wild deers and other animals. She told them that the Indians used to hunt the wild deer, and shoot them, that they might 18have them to eat. Their flesh was very tender and good, and was called venison.

“Why are there not any wild deer here now, Mary?” asked Ellen.

“Because there is no place for them to live in. The forests, where they like to live, are all cut down; and now, instead of forests, we have fine farms, and houses on them to live in.”

“Who cut down the forests, Mary?” said Ellen.

“Our forefathers, who came here a great while ago.”

“But why did not our forefathers let the pretty little wild deers stay here, Mary?”

“They would not stay,” Mary said. “They are afraid of people, of men and women, and 19of little boys and girls, and they ran away from them.”

“Where did they go, Mary?”

“Away into the forests, which are many hundreds of miles from here. When our forefathers came here, they wanted houses to live in, and something to eat; and they built themselves houses, and cut down the trees before they could plant corn, and wheat, and rye, and potatoes. They had to cut down the trees before they could make farms.”

Carry looked as if she did not quite understand Mary, and Mary said, “You know, Carry, your mother told you, you might have a little garden of your own, and she gave you a little piece of ground to make your garden of, which was full of cedar bushes; 20and do you not remember, you asked your father if he would cut down the cedar bushes, so that you could have a nice smooth place for your flower seeds?”

Carry said, “Yes, I remember it, and father cut down all the cedar bushes for me, and then he dug up the ugly roots, and he took out a spade one morning and dug up the ground and made it soft. And then mother gave me some flowers out of her garden, and she showed me how to plant them in my garden; and she gave me some seeds, and she showed me how to make little holes in the ground to hold the seeds. I put the seeds in the little holes and covered them up with the soft earth, and mother says they will grow into beautiful flowers by and by.”

21“Do you understand now, Carry,” said Mary, “why our forefathers cut down the forest trees?

“The land was covered all over with trees, just as your little garden was covered over with cedar bushes; and you know you could not have a garden of flowers, until the cedar bushes were cut away.”

Carry said, “Yes, I understand now. The people who came here wanted to plant wheat, and rye, and corn, and they could not plant seeds till the great trees were cut down.”

Charles Linn said he would like to have another look at the wild deer picture; and Mary allowed him and all the scholars to examine it.

Eddy Forester said, “The deer’s horns were 22like some his father had at home, to hang up his Sunday hat on; and his father called them antlers.”

“Did your father ever tell you where they came from, Eddy?” asked Mary.

“Yes,” said Eddy. “He told us one night—Lily and me—that they were the horns of a deer, which our great-grandfather shot a long time ago, on the spot where our house now stands.”

“Oh, yes,” Lily said, “I remember, it was before we went to bed. I was sitting on father’s lap, and Eddy was sitting on my little stool, and mother was making me a new frock, when father told us about the Indians.”

“Yes,” Eddy said, “he told us that when 23our great-grandfather came to this country from England, there was only a great forest of trees here, and no houses to be seen. He lived in a log-hut, which he, and the men who came with him, built for themselves: and they had not any thing to eat but the deer and wild turkeys which they shot. Father told us all that, and he said the antlers had been kept ever since our great-grandfather shot the wild deer in the forest.”

Mary said, “Now I will put away the large picture book, and you may all take your seats, while I prepare the black board.” Mary told all her scholars to stand up, and they answered in concert the questions she asked.

She drew a mark on the black board thus, 24—— and told them to say what she had drawn; and they answered in concert, “a straight line.” Then she drew other figures, thus:

After Mary had exercised her boys and girls in this way, until she thought they knew all the figures she had drawn, she told them to say the multiplication table in concert. Ellen Raby called this class the concert class, 25and they liked to be in a class altogether.

Lily said she would like black board exercises every day; but Mary was wiser than her little scholar, and she knew that Lily would get very tired of doing the same thing every day. Mary liked her scholars to be “always busy, never weary,” and she gave them different lessons for each day.

Now it was recess time. And what do my little readers think Mary’s scholars did during recess time, when it rained so fast that they could not go out of doors to play? They played in the school-room. They played Blindman Buff and “Poor Pussey wants a corner,” and “Hunt the Slipper.” Mary lent them her shoe to play with, and when they 26were tired of playing Hunt the Slipper, and Puss in the Corner, they gave Mary her shoe again, and asked her if they might play Blindman Buff. She said they might, but not in the school-room. She told them to go into the little room adjoining the school-room, where Blindman Buff, whoever he might happen to be, could not do any mischief. There was no ink nor desks in the little room, and he could walk or run about there without danger of hurting himself. They begged Mary to go with them, and she said she would. They all ran off, singing,

Mary took her handkerchief and asked, who would be Blindman Buff first. They all wanted to be blindfolded first; and Mary said, “What shall I do to please all my little scholars? You cannot all be Blindman Buff at once; so I will take the oldest first.” Charles Linn was the oldest scholar; and after Mary had bound her handkerchief over his eyes, he could not see any thing at all. He put out his hands, and felt about the room, and at last he caught little Ellen Raby. Ellen was so much delighted, and laughed so merrily to see how queer Charles looked, that 28he knew by the sound of her voice where to find her. Carry Deacon came up to Mary and looked as if she wanted to say something to her, and as if she did not like to say it. Then Mary took Carry by the hand, and she said,

“Do you want to talk to me, Carry?”

Carry said, “Yes, but not before anybody. Let us go back into the school-room.” Mary went with Carry into the school-room while the scholars were at play, and she said, “Now, Carry dear, come and tell me all about your getting to school so late this morning.”

Second Day.
“I stopped to see Mike Terry’s Kittens.” p. 28.

Carry was a very affectionate little girl, and she put her arms round Mary’s neck, and said, “Will you kiss me now, Mary, and forgive me?”

Mary kissed Carry, and said, “I will forgive you, dear, but do you not know that 34when we do wrong, even in a very little thing, we must ask our Heavenly Father to forgive us? Whenever you do wrong, a stain is left upon your soul—upon that part of you which lives for ever and ever. God’s good spirit within you makes you sensible of this stain; makes you feel that all is not right with you; and then you are unhappy, uncomfortable; and you cannot feel happy again until the stain is taken away. I do not see it. I cannot take it away: but God sees it, and can take it away. And if you are really sorry and ask Him, He will take it away, and make you happy again. I will give you a little prayer to learn; and before you lie down in your bed to-night, think over what you have been doing to-day. You must try to ask 35your Heavenly Father’s forgiveness before you go to sleep, and then you can repeat these verses.”

“Will you say the little prayer to me, Mary?”

“Yes.”

36Then Mary lent Carry the little book which had the prayer in it, and she told her she might take it home with her.

“There is one thing more, I wish to say to you, Carry. I wish you to try to think about what you are told to do. What shall I do to make my little Carry remember?”

Carry ran away to do as Mary told her. And then Mary rang the bell for school.

Now it was reading time. Harry Linn, and Lily Forester, and Ellen Raby, were in a class by themselves. They were just learning to read. Ellen Raby was older than Harry and Lily, but she did not know enough to be in the first class.

After all the scholars had done reading, they took their slates to do sums, and make figures. Mary showed those who could cipher, how to do their sums, and she set lines 38of figures for the little ones. Mary made pens, and set copies in the copy books for afternoon.

One of the copies was,

Another copy was,

Another copy was,

When morning school was done, Mary had all the books and the slates neatly put into their places. Carry Deacon came running up to Mary to tell her that she had put every thing into her desk that belonged there, and 39that the lid would shut down closely. Mary went to Carry’s desk to look into it, and she found that the things were not all tumbled in, helter-skelter, but that each book was in its right place; and she said Carry was a good little girl, because she was trying to improve.

Carry looked very much pleased, when Mary praised her. And she said, “I do love you, Mary, you are so kind to me. You never call me careless Carry.”

The boys and girls amused themselves as they liked until dinner-time.

My little readers will remember, that they had all brought their dinner to school, because it was a rainy day. They will remember too, that Mary lived with Harry Linn’s 40father and mother. Her basket was quite a large one, with dinner enough in it for four: Charles and Lucy and Harry Linn and Mary.

When it was dinner-time, Mary had the napkins taken out of each basket, and she spread them all upon a little table which stood in the corner of the school-room, and these served for a table-cloth. Then she took out of every basket all that was in it. There was bread and butter and cold meat and biscuit and apple pies. Mary had brought a large pie, and some of the scholars had brought small pies. Mary placed the large pie in the centre of the table, and the little pies around it. Lily Forester’s patty-pan pie, with her name on it, was the least of all. Lily capered around the table, and was wild with 41delight. Ellen Raby said the large pie was the mother-pie and the little pies were the children.

Charles Linn took the pitcher and brought some fresh water from the spring, and Mary put the little mug which was in the wash-room, on the table, for a drinking cup. When the table was arranged, Mary allowed Ellen Raby to ring the bell. She rang the bell very loud, and she ran about, saying to every one, “Please to come to dinner.”

Before they began to eat, they sat in silence^[A] 42for a little while; and then Mary asked her scholars, if they knew why we sit in silence before we partake of our meals? Charles Linn said, “We do it that we may think of our Heavenly Father, before we eat our food, because He gives it to us.” “Yes,” said Mary, “He gives us every good thing that we have, and we should try, when we receive his gifts, to ask Him to give us grateful hearts for them. We cannot give ourselves kind parents and pleasant homes and health, nor abilities to provide food and raiment. God must give them to us or we must go without them.

“Shall I repeat to my little scholars some verses which my mother taught me to say when I was about as old as Lily Forester?”

43They all said, “Yes, oh do, before we eat our dinner.” And Mary repeated:

Mary talked with her scholars while they ate their dinner; and after dinner was over, each scholar put the plates and other things 44that belonged to her into her own basket. There was not much left, for they were all very hungry. Then they went into the wash-room, one at a time, and washed their hands and faces. Mary required her scholars to eat slowly and chew their food well; and eating their dinner and washing and putting their baskets away, had occupied so much time, that now it was almost two o’clock, and school in the afternoon commenced at two o’clock. Mary had no recess during the afternoon on rainy days, and she closed her school at four o’clock. She said it was not healthful to remain longer than that time in a close room. It had rained so fast all day that the scholars could not go out to take the air.

45When Mary said it was school-time, Charles Linn called out, “Now for school.” “Now for school.” “May I ring the bell?” Mary told him he might. And he rang the bell.

Carry Deacon did not come when the bell was rung, nor Ellen Raby, nor Harry Linn, nor Lily Forester. Mary asked Charles to go and look for them, and he found them in the wash-room. They had taken all the dinner-baskets out of the closet, and they were playing “Go to market and sell apples.” Carry Deacon had a basket on her head, and Ellen Raby had one on her arm, and Harry Linn had tied a string to their large basket, and he and Lily Forester were pulling it along. They pretended the basket was a 46cart, and that it had apples in it, and that Harry was Sam the driver, and Lily was Sam’s wife, and she was going to market with him to measure out the apples in a half-peck measure.

They were all in high glee, and Carry Deacon said, “Isn’t it nice on rainy days?”

Charles Linn told them it was school-time. They asked Charles to help them put the baskets away. Charles was a kind little boy, and he helped them, and he untied the string which Harry had put to the large basket, and then they all came into school.

When the scholars were in their seats, Mary said, “Which of my little boys and girls have their Definitions ready?”

The little ones did not learn definitions, but 47the larger ones did, and they had been studying their lessons between schools. After Mary had heard the definition-class, she called the little ones, and asked them if they remembered what lesson they said on the second day of the week. Carry Deacon said, “Oh, yes, this is question-afternoon.” Mary said, “That is true, Carry, and I am glad to find you remember it.”

These are some of the questions which Mary asked her little scholars.

Now, my little readers, suppose you try to answer these questions. Your kind mothers, or your older brother or sister, will tell you if you answer them correctly. Mary’s little scholars missed some, but they answered most of them correctly.

When they had done answering questions, Mary told them they might go to their seats 49and write on their slates. Their copies were already set.

Instead of having a recess, Mary read to her scholars a pretty story. It was a true story about a good muffin-man.

Second Day.
The good muffin-man. p. 49.

STORY OF THE GOOD MUFFIN-MAN.

There was once a muffin-man who carried muffins about the streets of a large city to sell. He carried them in two square baskets, on his shoulders. In the street where he served the people with muffins, a poor sailor’s wife lived. She was sick, and she could not work, and she had not any body to give her money, for her husband was a sailor, and he was out at sea in a great ship. She had a 50young child, and she was so poor that she had not even enough money to buy bread. The good muffin-man stopped every day and gave her some muffins out of one of his baskets to eat. Whenever the muffin-man stopped, the little child would run away from her mother to come to him, because she was so glad to see him.

Mary’s scholars thought the muffin-man was very good and kind. There was a picture over the story, and Mary showed them the picture. After they had talked about the poor sailor’s wife, and the little child, and the muffin-man, Carry Deacon asked, “Why the people did not make muffins at home?” Mary told her, “That in large cities, such as Boston, New York and Philadelphia, the 51people who lived there bought many things, which the country people made at home. They bought their milk and their butter and their meat and their eggs, because the houses were built up closely together, and there was not room enough, in towns, to keep cows and pigs and chickens. Mary asked Carry if she had never seen people carrying milk and bread and fruit about, when she was in Philadelphia.” Carry said, “Yes, she had seen a man carrying a bucket with bright hoops around it; and her aunt, at whose house she stayed, told her the bucket had milk in it.” And Carry said, “She saw a woman carrying oranges in a basket, and the woman knocked at people’s doors, and asked them to buy her oranges.”

52

Second Day.
The fruit woman on her way to town p. 51.

Mary went around among her scholars, while they were writing, to see that they held their pens and pencils properly. She rubbed out some of Lily Forester’s straight marks and round o’s, because her strokes were crooked and her o’s were not well formed, and Lily said she would try again.

While the scholars were writing, Mary looked over the Bible to select a chapter to read at the close of the school.

Carry Deacon came up to Mary and whispered to her, to please to read about the beautiful garden where Adam and Eve lived a great while ago and talked with our Heavenly Father.

When school was done, Mary called her little boys and girls to come and sit around 53her while she read to them the Bible. She read to them about God creating the world; and how he made the heavens, and the bright stars, and the earth and all the people that live on it, and the flowers, and the birds and beasts, and every thing that has life. And then she read to them about Adam, the first man, and Eve, the first woman, and about the beautiful garden, called the garden of Eden, where they lived, and where they were very happy, until they were disobedient; and because they were disobedient they had to go out of the beautiful garden of Eden.

“Is God, who made every thing, our Heavenly Father, Mary?” said Harry Linn.

“Yes, Harry.”

“Did God send Adam and Eve out of the 54beautiful garden because they were disobedient?” asked Carry Deacon.

“Yes,” said Mary.

“But, Mary, I thought you said our Heavenly Father loved us, and was kind to us. I do not think it was kind to send poor Adam and Eve away. Why did not God forgive them for being disobedient, as you did me this morning?”

“They did not ask God to forgive them,” Mary said; “And you know, Carry, that when we have done wrong, we cannot be forgiven, until we are sorry that we have done wrong, and sincerely ask our Heavenly Father to forgive us.”

“Did Adam and Eve know they were to be sent away, if they were naughty?” asked Carry.

55Eddy Forester said, “Do you not remember, Carry, Mary read to us, that God showed Adam and Eve one tree in the garden, and told them not to touch it? and he told them if they ate the fruit on that tree, they should surely die.”

“Oh, yes,” Carry said, “I remember now,” and the scholars all said they remembered that.

“Well,” Mary said, “you know God is true. He always keeps his word. We must believe every word of God; but if God should not do what he said He would do, we could not believe Him. He said he would punish Adam and Eve, if they ate the fruit which he told them not to touch, and if he had not punished them, how could we believe every word God had spoken?”

56Carry said, “Does God love us any more, when He punishes us, Mary?”

“Yes,” Mary said, “He punishes us sometimes when we do wrong, because He loves us and wants to make us love and obey Him. You know, Carry, your mother sends you away from her, when you are naughty, to punish you; and she does it because she wants to make you a good, obedient little girl; and do you not think your mother loves you?”

“Oh, yes,” Carry said; “my mother says she loves me, and I know she does.”

Little Ellen Raby was leaning against Mary; she was very tired. Harry and Lily had slipped off from the bench where they were sitting, and they were lying on the floor, 57looking up into Mary’s face while she was talking.

Then Mary said, “My little scholars are weary, they have been at school long enough.”

The bigger boys and girls begged Mary to talk to them some more about Adam and Eve. They said they were not weary. Charles Linn said he would hold Ellen Raby on his lap, while Harry and Lily rested on the floor. But Mary looked at her watch, and she said, “We will not talk any more now. It is after four o’clock. It is time for us all to go home. It does not rain much now, and we can go home without getting very wet.”

Then Mary put away the Bible, and she 58went and brought Carry Deacon’s shoes and stockings to her.

“Now Carry, dear,” Mary said, “go and take off the borrowed shoes and stockings, and put on your own. Yours are quite dry.”

Carry did as she was bidden, and then Mary took the shoes and stockings which Carry left off, and put them into her basket; for my little readers will remember they belonged to Lucy Linn, and we must never forget to return carefully and in good season any thing that we borrow. Mary took care that each scholar had the right umbrella and the right dinner-basket, and then she kissed them all, and they went home.

Charles Linn said he did not care for a 59little rain, and he took the large basket and ran home. He left the umbrella for Mary and his little brother Harry, and his sister Lucy, and Mary and Lucy and Harry walked home together.