Washington Standard

Country and City.

The excitement and artificial society of cities are an education—but not the kind which always produces that gentle respect and consideration shown in true refinement. An indignant correspondent of the New York Evening Post writes in the following strain:

Several years since I witnessed the following occurrence in a village street: A plain farmer's boy was driving his wagon to the mill and met a funeral procession. It was led by a working-man, walking bareheaded, and behind him was a child's coffin. A dozen or more neighbors and friends walked behind. The farmer's boy drew up to the side of the road and took off his hat as the humble mourners passed.

Yesterday morning about eleven o'clock, I witnessed another occurrence at the corner of Fifth avenue and Thirty-seventh street, in the city of New York. A hearse and many carriages in line were in front of the old Brick Church. The funeral service of a well-known lady had closed, and the coffin was being placed in the hearse in the presence of the mourners.

At this moment a splendid coach and four passed by with a brilliant party on top. The liveried servant behind with distended cheeks blew his horn in the face of the funeral, and without remonstrance from any of the company continued his performance along the crest of Murray Hill.

I could not help questioning whether some of the finer qualities of our nature are not better cultivated in the country than in the town.