In the boyhood of Lincoln; a tale of the Tunker schoolmaster and the times of Black Hawk . , my good friend, pardon me if I speak plain. The endof education is not to make young people do right, but to trainthe young heart to love to do right; to make right doing thenature and habit of life. How would you begin ? As that boy has begun. He has made every heart on theground feel for that broken-shelled turtle. That boy will oneday become a leader among men. He has a heart. The headmay make friends, but only the heart can hold them. It is theheart-power that serves and rules. The best thing that
In the boyhood of Lincoln; a tale of the Tunker schoolmaster and the times of Black Hawk . , my good friend, pardon me if I speak plain. The endof education is not to make young people do right, but to trainthe young heart to love to do right; to make right doing thenature and habit of life. How would you begin ? As that boy has begun. He has made every heart on theground feel for that broken-shelled turtle. That boy will oneday become a leader among men. He has a heart. The headmay make friends, but only the heart can hold them. It is theheart-power that serves and rules. The best thing that can besaid of any one is, He is true-hearted. I like that boy. He istrue-hearted. His first client a turtle, it may not be his him well. He will honor you some day. The boys took the turtle to the pond and left him on thebank. Jasper watched them. He then turned to the back-woods teacher, and said: That, sir, is the result of right education. First teachcharacter; second, life ; third, books. Let education begin inthe heart, and everybody made to feel that right makes CHAPTER COBBLES FOR AUNT OLIVE.—HER QUEER STORIES. ^U:NT olive EASTMAN had made herself arelative to every one living between the twoPigeon Creeks. She had formed this large ac-quaintance with the pioneers by attending thecamp-meetings of the Methodists and the four-days meetings of the Baptists in southern Indiana, and theschool-house meetings everywhere. She was a widow, was fullof rude energy and benevolence, had a sharp torque, a kindlyheart, and a measure of good sense. But she was • far fromperfect, as she used to very humbly acknowledge in the manypioneer meetings that she attended. I make mistakes sometimes, she used to say, and it isbecause I am a fallible creatur. She was an always busy woman, and the text of her life was Work, and her practice was in harmony with her teaching. Work, work, my friends and brethren, she once said inthe log school-house meeting. Work while th
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