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School-Boy Days.

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the time, in my life, when, though all
other experiments for entertaining a
group of children might fail, I could not
make their eyes brighten with interest,
when I began to recount some of the
scenes that took place at the school in
my native village. I am not, however,
going to tell any of these stories at pre-
sent, boys and girls. I hardly know, in
the first place, that I have any new ones
to tell. I am not by any means sure
that I could think of anything worth
mentioning, which you have not heard

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THE YOUTH’S CABINET.

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Besides, I have recently stum-
bled upon something in this particular
line of story-telling, a great deal more
readable than anything contained in my
budget of school-boy recollections. I
have been reading the description of a
district school in England, given by
Thomas Miller, the ingenious basket-
maker, and entertaining story-teller. It
was only the other day that I came
across this sketch ; and I have laughed
outright at least a dozen times since,
when it has accidentally come into my
mind. It would seem from this picture,
that there is a great deal of difference
between the common schools of this
country and those in England. The
boys in many of our schools are rude
and unruly enough, and it is sufficient by
difficult, one would think, to get an idea
into their skulls. But I imagine one
would have to hunt a good while on this
side of the Atlantic ocean, to find such
a barbarous set of fellows as Mr. Miller
describes. I should hope so, at any rate.

 

BOYS LET LOOSE FROM scCHOOL.

‘Tt is not every boy’—says the story-
telling basket maker—‘ who knows what
a downright village school is, such a one
as I have before me at this moment,

where I passed some of my early days.
You ought to have seen the scholars, —

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when they were let out of the school- |

house. But as, perhaps, you never en-