A few specimens of the ditties thus used shall now be given; and several others, both hymns and moral songs are to be found in the Manual, recently published by myself in conjunction with a friend.
FOUR SEASONS FOR HUMAN LIFE.
Our days four seasons are at most, And Infancy's the time of Spring; Oh! with what trouble, care, and cost, Must we be taught to pray and sing.
In Summer as our growth proceeds, Good fruit should hang on every branch; Our roots be clear'd from evil weeds, As into knowledge we advance.
Our Autumn is the season, when Temptations do our minds assail.
Our fruits are proved in manhood; then Let not sin, death, and hell prevail.
For Winter brings old age and death, If we've good fruits laid up in store; Soon as we gasp our latest _breath_, We land on a _triumphant shore_.
FOUR SEASONS OF THE YEAR.
On March the twenty-first is Spring, When little birds begin to sing; Begin to build and hatch their brood, And carefully provide them food.
Summer's the twenty-first of June, The cuckoo changes then his tune; All nature smiles, the fields look gay, The weather's fair to make the hay.
September, on the twenty-third, When sportsmen mark at ev'ry bird, Autumn comes in; the fields are shorn, The fruits are ripe; so is the corn.
Winter's cold frosts and northern blasts, The season is we mention last; The date of which in _truth_ we must Fix for December--twenty-first.
FIVE SENSES.
All human beings must (with birds and beasts) To be complete, five senses have at least: The sense of hearing to the ear's confined; The eye, we know, for seeing is design'd; The nose to smell an odour sweet or ill; The tongue to taste what will the belly fill.
The sense of feeling is in every part While life gives motion to a beating heart.
THE MASTER'S DAILY ADVICE TO HIS SCHOOL.
If you'd in wisdom's ways proceed, You intellectual knowledge need.
Let science be your guiding star, Or from its path you'll wander far.
'Tis science that directs the mind, The path of happiness to find.
If _goodness_ added is to _truth_, 'Twill bring reward to every youth.
THE GOOD CHILDREN'S MONEY-BOX.
All pence by the generous deposited here, When holidays come I will equally share.
Among all good children attending this school, I should wish not to find a dunce or a fool.
Then listen, all you, who a prize hope to gain, Attend to your books, and you'll not hope in vain.
THE MASTER.
THE COW.
Come, children, listen to me now, And you shall hear about the cow; You'll find her useful, live or dead, Whether she's black, or white, or red.
When milk-maids milk her morn and night, She gives them milk so fresh and white; And this, we little children think, Is very nice for us to drink.
The curdled milk they press and squeeze, And so they make it into cheese; The cream they skim and shake in churns, And then it soon to butter turns.
And when she's dead, her flesh is good, For _beef_ is our true English food; But though 'twill make us brave and strong, To eat too much we know is wrong.
Her skin, with lime and bark together, The tanner tans, and makes it leather; And without _that_ what should we do For soles to every boot or shoe?
The shoemaker cuts it with his knife, And bound the tops are by his wife, And then he nails it to the last.
And after sews it tight and fast.
The hair that grows upon her back Is taken, whether white or black, And mix'd with mortar, short or long, Which makes it very firm and strong.
The plast'rer spreads it with a tool, And this you'll find is just the rule, And when he's spread it tight and fast, I'm sure it many years will last.
And last of all, if cut with care, Her horns make combs to comb our hair; And so we learn--thanks to our teachers, That cows are good and useful creatures.
THE SHEEP.
Hark now to me, and silence keep, And we will talk about the sheep; For sheep are harmless, and we know That on their backs the wool does grow.
The sheep are taken once a year, And plunged in water clean and clear; And there they swim, but never bite, While men do wash them clean and white.
And then they take them, fat or lean, Clip off the wool, both short and clean, And this is call'd, we understand, Shearing the sheep, throughout the land.
And then they take the wool so white, And pack it up in bags quite tight; And then they take those bags so full, And sell to men that deal in wool.
The wool is wash'd and comb'd with hand, Then it is spun with wheel and band; And then with shuttle very soon, Wove into cloth within the loom.
The cloth is first sent to be dyed; Then it is wash'd, and press'd and dried; The tailor then cuts out with care The clothes that men and boys do wear.
THE HORSE.
Come, children, let us now discourse About the pretty noble horse; And then you soon will plainly see How very useful he must be.
He draws the coach so fine and smart, And likewise drags the loaded cart, Along the road or up the hill, Though then his task is harder still.
Upon his back men ride with ease, He carries them just where they please; And though it should be many a mile, He gets there in a little while.
With saddle on his back they sit, And manage him with reins and bit, The whip and spur they use also, When they would have him faster go.
And be the weather cold or hot, As they may wish he'll walk or trot; Or if to make more haste they need, Will gallop with the greatest speed.
When dead his shining skin they use, As leather for our boots and shoes; Alive or dead, then, thus we see How useful still the horse must be.
THE DOG.
The cow, the sheep, the horse, have long, Been made the subject of our song; But there are many creatures yet, Whose merits we must not forget.
And first the dog, so good to guard His master's cottage, house, or yard,-- Dishonest men away to keep, And guard us safely while we sleep.
For if at midnight, still and dark, Strange steps he hears, with angry bark, He bids his master wake and see, If thieves or honest folks they be.
At home, abroad, obedient still, His only guide his master's will; Before his steps, or by his side, He runs or walks with joy and pride.
He runs to fetch the stick or ball, Returns obedient to the call; Content and pleased if he but gains A single pat for all his pains.
But whilst his merits thus we praise, Pleased with his character and ways, This let us learn, as well we may, To love our teachers and obey.
MORAL LESSON.[A] [Footnote A: The following tale, though not adapted for the younger children of an Infant School, and too long to be committed to memory by the elder ones, might be read to such by the master, and would serve as an admirable theme for conversation.

It is likewise well adapted as a tale for family circles.] THE TWO HALVES.
"What nice plum-cakes," said JAMES to JOHN, "Our mother sends! Is your's all gone ?" "It is," JOHN answered; "is not thine ?" "No, JOHN, I've saved one half of mine; "It was so large, as well as nice, I thought that it should serve for twice, Had I eat all to-day, to-morrow I might have mourn'd such haste in sorrow; So half my cake I wisely took, And, seated in my favourite nook, Enjoyed alone, the _double pleasure_, Of present and of future treasure." "I, too," said JOHN, "made up my mind This morning, when our mother kind Sent down the cakes so nice and sweet, That I but half to-day would eat, And half I ate; the other half--" JAMES stopp'd his brother with a laugh; "I know what you're about to say,-- The other half you gave away.
Now, brother, pray explain to me, The charms which you in _giving_ see.
Shew me how _feasting_ foes or friends Can for your _fasting_ make amends." "A poor old man," said JOHN, "came by, Whose looks implored for charity.
His eyes, bedimm'd with starting tears, His body bowed by length of years, His feeble limbs, his hoary hairs, Were to my heart as silent prayers.
I saw, too, he was hungry, though His lips had not informed me so.
To this poor creature, JAMES, I gave The half which I had meant to save.
The lingering tears, with sudden start, Ran down the furrows of his cheek, I knew he thank'd me in his heart, Although he strove in vain to speak.
The joy that from such acts we gain I'll try for your sake to explain.
First, God is pleased, who, as you know, Marks every action that we do; That God 'from whom all blessings flow,' So many JAMES to me and you.
_Our mother_, next, had she but seen Her gifts of kindness so employ'd, Would _she_ not JAMES, well pleased have been; And all my feelings then enjoy'd?
_The poor old man_, was _he_ not pleased?
Must not his load of sorrow be, Though but for one short moment, eased, To think, 'Then some one feels for me.' But still you ask, of all this pleasure, How much will to _the giver_ fall?
The whole, rich, undiminish'd treasure,-- _He_ feels, _he_ shares the joy of _all_.
We eat the cake, and it is gone; What have we left to think upon?
Who's pleased by what we then have done?
How many pray, JAMES, more than one?
The joys by sympathy supplied Are many, great, and dignified.
But do not on my word rely, Whilst you, dear JAMES, the fact may try; And if you do not find it true, I'll next time eat _both halves_ with you!" * * * * * It is desirable that the master should add instrumental to vocal music.

He should be able to play on the violin, flute, or clarionet, but, as he must speak much, the former is to be preferred.

Such is the influence of the weather, that children are almost always dull on dull days, and then a little music is of great advantage.

On wet days, when they cannot go into the play-ground, it assists them in keeping the step when they march, it cheers and animates their spirits, and, in some measure, compensates for their privations.