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My next school was in a nearly new

building; I left it each noon

to go to my boarding-house. My departure was the signal for pandemonium to set in. I often thought of Scott's lines:

"At once there rose so wild a yell."

his examination was brief, but he was satisfied I was doing thorough In due course of time the superintendent made his appearance; work. In addressing the pupils he said: "I am well pleased with all but one thing, you don't take good care of the desks; they are badly scratched and marked up. This new house will soon be like the rest. Boys, I wish you could see what boys Miss R. has, and

how they keep their desks."

I was more interested than the boys were. From the superintendent I learned that Miss R. kept school six miles up the river, and I determined to visit her school on the following Friday. The day found me on the spot, and I was surprised by what I saw.

flat stones.

The building stood back about seventy-five or eighty feet from the neat fence in front. There was a gate and a wide walk covered with At each corner of the building was a sort of low tower; in one the boys entered; in the other the girls. The teacher's desk I found between the doors; at that desk was a woman of pleasant aspect, probably thirty-five years of age. She rose as I came in, and, smiling pleasantly, offered me a chair. I began a critical survey of things, and my first feeling was, "Well, Miss R. has civilized beings for her pupils; that is the secret of her success." Then I fell to wondering why her pupils were of better stock than mine; I could see no reason for it and reluctantly came to the conclusion that the difference was caused by the teacher.

I could see that the pupils were managing themselves; that they respected and loved their teacher; that they cared for their books, clothes, and school property. When recess-time came I put the inquiry, "How have you done all this?" for the building was neat, not only, it was adorned. The platform was carpeted, the walls were hung with pictures, the blackboards were covered with neat work, the windows had curtains, and all was in nice repair. She smiled: "Why it seems natural enough to me."

"But do not the pupils cut and scratch the desks? And how did you manage to get a bell for the boys' tower? And how such a neat walk?"

"I talk with the boys and girls about these things, and they talk with their parents, you know."

"But suppose you leave the room at noon, will they not run on top of the desks?"

"Why the rest would - I don't know what they would do to such a pupil."

Just then a pupil stepped to the bell-rope and pulled it three times; waiting a few moments he pulled the bell once, and in marched the pupils.

Again, I watched them. They were not self-conscious, not forward, not vain; they were quiet, polite, studious, natural. The lessons went forward with promptness, both the teacher and pupils seemed to be imbued with the same spirit-and here I discovered the secret of Miss R.'s success; she was constantly inviting the best qualities of her pupils; she acted a comrade to them; she met them in the spirit of the Great Teacher.

Well, I fell to pondering on the problem: "Could I accomplish a work like this?" I went home full of plans; I could scarcely wait for Monday morning. On arriving at the school I got the boys (who stayed out until the last moment) to come in. I told them of my wishes about a plank walk to the edge of the road. To my surprise the roughest boy I had, agreed to bring some planks. I took courage, and when the school was assembled a committee was appointed, and during the week the coveted walk was laid.

This gave me courage to go to my pupils and enlist them to work on problems that puzzled me. I asked them to tell me how the disturbance at noon could be abated. A committee on order took that in hand, and (with suggestions and advice, from me, of course) that was successfully battled with.

One after another of the barbarisms I found in existence was attacked by us all en masse, and exterminated. My school soon began to have a name; I felt I had something to be proud of. But after all, I could never equal Miss R.'s school. She was an artist; she achieved great results; not in scholarship, perhaps, but in round development. From her I learned that great lesson, that if a teacher would succeed he must get the co-operation of his pupils.—John R. Dennis in the Teachers' Institute.

It is a mistake to be continually repressing the activities of childhood. Education should be directive rather than repressive. Some teachers are struck with horror if pupils laugh in school. The discipline that can not stand a hearty laugh occasionally is unnatural and unsound. Giggling should not be tolerated. - Hughes.

How Can a Superintendent Make His Visit to a School Most Effective?

The work of a superintendent must vary somewhat, according to the character of the community, and the condition of the schools, but there are some general principles which are equally applicable to all situations. He should be in full sympathy with his teachers, that they may regard his visits as those of a generous friend desirous of giving them any aid in his power, and not the mere round of an official to inspect and criticise.

It is assumed that the superintendent should visit the schools under his care that he should spend much of his time in the school-room with the teachers and pupils. Without this familiarity with their daily work, most of the meditations and devices of the office are likely to be of little worth. His thought may be clear and logical, but his aim, in many cases, will be wide of the mark.

His entrance to a school-room should be quiet and familiar, causing hardly a ripple of excitement to pass over the room, or the mind of the teacher. Nor should he often interrupt the regular work, of whose character he wishes to learn; and in no way should he say or do anything to disconcert the teacher, lessen her authority, or disparage her scholarship or character in the estimation of her pupils, but rather should his presence be helpful, and an inspiration to teacher and pupil alike.

He will often see and hear methods which he does not approve, but is he to censure and condemn, bringing an uncomfortable feeling over all parties, with little probability of any improvement? No earnest work is all bad, and among much that is faulty, some good will crop out. This he can commend, and suggest how it might profitably be carried still farther. With the direct or implied consent of the teacher, never to be forgotten, he may ask some questionsuggestion of a better method-something to awaken their curiosity, and quicken their intelligence. With her consent, too, he may ask if they have ever done their work in this way, or that, getting their opinion as to which they think the better. He may find a class in history, for instance, repeating the words of the book, and ask who, forgetting the text, can tell the story in his own way, as he would describe what he had seen to a companion. In geography he may ask a pupil to step to the board and sketch the boundaries of Illinois, for example, with one or two towns and rivers, and tell them that

when he comes again he hopes to give them another trial. Most teachers are discerning enough to follow the lead thus given.

He finds a room in infinite confusion, the floor lined with papers, the ceiling covered with spitballs, some pushing and shoving, much talking and no work. One of our experienced principals, some time since, wisely, I think, remarked to one of his assistants, that he 'never should allow himself in the presence of disorder." What is the superintendent to do? Let him, perhaps, with a pleasant, encouraging word to the pupils, walk down through the aisle and back, and with many a smiling look from little boy and girl, he will find the floor cleared before the completion of his round. They will appreciate the improved appearance, be ready to assure him that he will not find it so again, and the teacher, with some quiet suggestions and cheering commendations of what is good, will go on with her work stronger and happier.

This work of visiting, to be truly valuable, must be supplemented, or preluded, by meetings of the teachers, at which directions and suggestions can be given, errors pointed out, methods indicated, and illustrations given.

The superintendent should never discourage any method without suggesting something better to take its place. This fault-finding, this pulling down, is so easy, but leaves such a void, such dissatisfaction, and often helpless despair, as its only results. The visit of the superintendent should always be an encouragement, and an enjoyment, and be looked forward to with pleasure and hopeful anticipation.—Illinois School Journal.

Cheerfulness.

The need of constant cheerfulness on the part of a teacher becomes more apparent when we consider the nature of childhood. In some professions an artificial gravity of demeanor is not inappropriate. The clergyman or the surgeon has much to do at the bedside, in the house of mourning, with the sick and suffering, where anything approaching levity would often be unbecoming.

But the intercourse of a teacher is with the young, the strong and the happy, and he makes a great mistake if he thinks that a severe and forbidding manner is required by the dignity of his calling. A good fund of animal spirits puts the teacher at once into sympathetic

rapport with his pupils, because it shows them that seriousness of purpose need not mean dullness, and that the possession of learning is not incompatible with a true enjoyment of life. We must not forget that to a little child the teacher is the possessor of unfathomable erudition, the representative and embodiment of that learning which he himself is being urged to acquire. And if he sees that the acquirement of it has rather made the teacher's life gloomy than bright or joyous, he may not put his inference into the form of a proposition, but he will none the less surely acquire a dislike for knowledge and arrive at the conclusion that it cannot be such a cheering and beautiful thing after all. It is well known that the men and women most influential in the school-room are those who know how to share the enjoyment of their scholars in the playground; who at least do not frown at children's play, but show an interest in it, recognize it as a proper and necessary employment of time, and, indeed, can play heartily themselves when the proper occasion comes. Many of the influences which surround a teacher's life have special tendency to encourage a sedentary and physically inactive habit, and it is also observable that persons are not unfrequently attracted to the profession of teaching because they are not strong, and are studiously inclined. But it ought never to be forgotten that bodily activity is a very valuable qualification in a teacher and should be cultivated as far as possible-not rapidly lost as it too often is. That eminent schoolmaster showed a true appreciation of his work who said, "Whenever the day comes in which I find I cannot run upstairs three at a time I shall think it high time to retire."

-Familiar as the truth is, it is worth reiterating that while teaching is one of the professions which most tries the patience, it is one in which the maintenance of cheerful and happy temper is most essential. Some of us are conscious of a tendency to hasty unguarded words, to petulance, and to sudden flashes of injustice. Such a tendency may become a great misfortune to a teacher, and lead to consequences he may regret all his life. And I have known those who, having chosen the vocation of a teacher and being at the same time aware of their own infirmity in this respect, have so guarded and watched themselves that their profession has become to them a means of moral discipline, and has sweetened and ennobled tempers naturally very hasty or very sour. But be this as it may, unless we are pre