New Hampshire Journal Of Agriculture

Note to a Farmer's Second Daughter.

[Another pleasant note from the "Farmer's
Daughter," with some sensible thoughts
in it—to say nothing of the sensible wish to
be numbered among the spirited Weare
schoolma'ams.—c.]

My Dear Sister:—I truly found your
chapter on gossip to be "habited with a plausible garb," and sincerely beg you to accept
"a courtesy" of fashionable politeness, and
the world-renowned "much obliged to you,"
with this humble note in return.

I am grieved to hear that you are afflicted
with a gossiping schoolma'am up in Claremont. What can be more aggravating?
"Is it not heart-rending, really," to be obliged
to endure the calls of such a nuisance? I
should think you would be obliged to exer-
cise the patience of Job and the meekness of
Moses: but of course you must submit to it
—for, as the minister said, "we must respect
the office." Oh, yes, respect the office! But
how can we respect a gossiping schoolma'am?
Shall we respect a person because she is a
schoolma'am? No, never. I sincerely pity
you. I pity the pupils that are placed in the
care of such a teacher; but, sister, remember
"Trouble never lasts forever." "Passing
away" is marked on every earthly thing; and
soon, let us hope, will your gossiping school
ma'am leave her place to be filled by a
"model."

But my subject was to be a model school-
ma'am. I know that I cannot do justice to
it, but as you requested it, I will cheerfully
comply. It is a subject which should interest every one, when we think how much our
future usefulness depends upon a good edu-
cation. Then is it not important that a good
teacher should be placed in every school-
room? It is not enough to place a teacher
there, but we want a good, faithful teacher.
that knows her duty, and will perform it.

I have in my mind's eye a model school-
ma'am. She is blest with good common
sense, and sufficient judgment and perseverance to live up to the motto, "Be sure you
are right, then go ahead." She follows the
golden rule, "Do unto others as you would
that they should do unto you." She follows
also the silver rule, "Mind your own business."
She has a thorough knowledge of the various
branches she attempts to teach—has not neglected this for the purpose of occasionally
mumbling a few words of French, Latin or
Greek. She remembers that one thing
learned is worth two half learned; therefore,
when asked by a pupil for assistance in per-
forming a simple example, she is not under
the necessity of saying, "I haven't time now.
but will do it for you to-night"—when, if she
would tell the whole truth, she would say,
"can't do it, but will copy it from my key to-
night!" It is a fact that too many of our
teachers have a hidden treasure, that is "a
help in every time of need," and are thus
obliged to depend upon it, instead of depend-
ing upon their own knowledge. How can
such a teacher explain difficult things to a
pupil?

The model schoolma'am enters the school-
room with a determination to do her duty,
not simply to obtain her weekly wages. She
strives to gain the affections of her pupils,
and to have them understand that she is in-
terested for them. She encourages the unfortunate or dull scholars, and endeavors to
make the school-room pleasant to all. She
is firm, but kind in her government, and all
obey the rules of school, because they love
to obey their teacher. Not a whisper is
heard, and everything moves on pleasantly.
"As the teacher, so is the school." That
teacher is a bright and shining light in the
community where she labors. She is loved
and respected by her pupils, and by every
one who knows her. All regret that she
must leave them— and as they gather in the
dear old schoolroom for the last time, to bid
adieu to all the pleasures of the past, is not
that teacher the happier for having done her
duty? And will she ever regret that she
has been faithful and kind to her pupils?

Now, sister, my say is said, about the
model schoolma'am; and although not wor-
thy a place in the JOURNAL, if it is accepta-
ble to you, I am satisfied, and trust you will
pardon all imperfections.

I think it would be a good idea for us to
send some of our gossiping, troublesome,
sleepy teachers down to Weare, as the people
of that town appear to be "wide awake," and
understand shaking up the sleepy ideas of
their teachers, and tuning them up in good
order for service. I admire their grit, and
almost wish I lived in Weare, also! Sister—
(really, I cannot call you by name)—I shall
be most happy to hear from you at any time
when you may please to write.

Yours in friendship,
Greenfield.
A FARMER'S DAUGHTER.