CLOSE OBSERVATIONS.
I SAID a short time since to one of my pupils, a young lady who would graduate at the close of the term, and who is a good scholar, "How long have you occupied that room of yours in the boarding-hall?"
"Nearly three years."
"It has one large window, has it not, with large panes of glass? How many panes of glass are there in the window?"
She was surprised that she did not know.
"There are many trees in our school-grounds, most deciduous, and a very few evergreens. Among those immediately around the school-buildings, are the fir or pine more abundant?" I asked; and again she was surprised to find that she did not know. She will not soon forget the object lesson.
When I first began to teach school in the country, I said to a bright boy one pleasant spring morning, who had a long mile to come to school every day, "Well, my young man, what did you see this morning on your way to school"
"Nothing much, sir."
I said, "Tomorrow morning I shall ask you the same question."
The morning came, and when I called him to my desk, you would have been surprised to hear how much he had seen along the road—cattle of all sizes and colors; fowls of almost every variety; sheep and lambs, horses and oxen; new barns and houses, and old ones; here a tree blown down, and yonder a fine orchard just coming out into full bloom; then a field covered over with corn or wheat; here a broken rail in the -fence, there a wash-out in the road; over yonder a pond alive with garrulous geese and ducks; here he met a carriage, and there a farm-wagon; and not only had he seen all these and many more things in the fields and by the wayside, but, looking up, he had noticed flocks of blackbirds going north to their summer home. He saw the barn and chimney swallows flying about in every direction; there he had noticed a kingbird making war on the crow, and here a little wren pursuing a hawk; yonder he had seen robins flying from tree to tree, and over there the bobolink mingling his morning song with that of the meadow-lark. In a word, he had seen so much to tell me that I had not time before school to hear it all. A new world had sprung up all around him; earth, water, and air were now full of interesting objects to him. Up to this time he had never learned to look and think. Things around him had not changed in number or character, but he had begun to take note of them.
How many of my young readers have never watched the insects creeping over the ground or up the trees? What do you know about their ways? Do you ever watch the clouds in their movements across the heavens, or at sunset when they are golden with the rays of the setting sun?
How many objects there are in air, earth, and water worthy of our closest study if we would only learn to take note of them!
Wherever you go, my young friends, always be observing and thoughtful. Let me also advise you to begin now, if you have not already done so, to keep a diary. At the close of each day write down something you have seen or heard or thought worthy of memory. This habit will make you not only observing and thoughtful, but will enable you in after years to call up the scenes and incidents of your past life, and give many an hour of useful and delightful entertainment.
Golden Days.