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sizes, and shapes. A stone is heavy, the table is heavy. To shew that something is heavy, make a sign as if you were lifting it with great difficulty. A feather is light, a bit of paper is light. You can make a sign for what is light, by seeming to toss something up into the air, and so see it float along, instead of tumbling down again.
I promised that I would tell you something too, about my way of looking at pictures with a dumb child. Suppose that you are looking at the picture of a horse—you can make a sign like trotting, and that will become like the name of the horse. Then you can shew him the different parts of a horse. It has two eyes ; to shew two, hold up two fingers. It has four legs ; to shew four, hold up four fingers. Shew the child that he has only two legs himself. Shew him the horse's hoofs. Knock against the table, or the floor, or something hard, to make him understand the hoofs are hard. Shew bim the horse's mane, and his tail, and touch the child's hair, to shew him that the mane and the tail are like hair. Shew him how the horse's body is covered with short hair. Let the child feel your face and hands, shake your head, and he will understand you mean that your body is not covered with hair.
When you and your child are pretty clever at signs, you will be able to make him understand in this way, all that the horse does; how he carries men on his back, how he draws carts, and waggons, and coaches, and so on. . If you look at a picture of a bird, or take a real dead bird in your hand, you can shew him how a bird is covered with feathers, how it has two legs, and not four : if you look at a cat, you can shew its long tail, its claws, its whiskers, and invent a sign for the cat, and in the same manner you can converse together about a great number of things, that you can either see, or get pictures of.
And now I will try to explain to you how your Instruction of the Deaf and Dumb. 13 child may begin to learn the alphabet, and even some little words; and perhaps, if there is a kind schoolmaster, in the place where you live, who will take the trouble of reading what I have written, he might be good enough to help you, or to put some of his young scholars in the way of helping you to teach them. There are generally cards, or sheets of alphabets, used in schools. Now if some of these could be spared, I would advise you to cut them into small squares, so as to leave only a single letter on each square. Then throw them all in confusion together, and with the help of another child, let my little friend learn first to pick out all the A's, and put them in a heap together; then all the B's, and so on, till he gets through them all, taking care to give him only a few to do at a time, for fear of tiring him. There is a way of making a sign for each letter, with the fingers, wbich you will see how to teach him from the little picture I have drawn for you in the next page. This is very necessary for deaf and dumb people to learn; and, when your child learns to sort his letters in the way I have told you of, be should learn, at the same time, how to make the sign for the letter with his fingers. When he has learnt the capital, that is the great letters of the alphabet, he will easily be taught the small letters in the same way, then he may lay the large A's and small a's in the same heap, and the great B's and little b’s, and so on; and, every time he brings you his little parcel to shew, let him make the sign of the right letter with his finger. The next time I write, I will go on a little farther; and now, with my best wishes ; I remain
To the Editor of the Cottager's Monthly Visitor.
POWER OF RELIGION. Sin, The following is a beautiful illustration of the power of religion on the mind, and may probably suit the 6 Visitor."
E. W. B.
Orlando and Adam. In the last war, between France and Germany, a Captain of Cavalry was ordered out on a foraging party. He put himself at the head of his troop, and marched to the quarter assigned him. It was a soli. tary valley, in which hardly any thing but woods could be seen. In the midst of it stood a little cot. tage. On perceiving it, he went up and knocked at the door, and a person appeared with a beard sil. vered with age. “ Father,” says the Officer, “shew me a field where I can set my troops a foraging."“Presently,” replied the stranger. The good old man walked on before, and conducted them out of the valley. After a quarter of an hour's march, they found a fine field of barley. « There is the very thing we want," says the Captain. “ Have patience for a few minutes,” replied his guide, “ you shall be satisfied.” They went on, and, at the distance of about a quarter of a league farther, arrived at another field of barley. The troop immediately dismounted, cut down the grain, trussed it up, and remounted. The Officer, upon this, says to his conductor, “ Father, you have given yourself and us unnecessary trouble; the first field was much better than this.”—“ Very true, Sir," replied the good old man, " But it was not mine."
J. H. B. De St. Pierre.
ORLANDO AND ADAM. To the Editor of the Cottager's Monthly Visitor. ,
SIR, As you have already admitted into your little work an extract from one of Shakspeare's Plays, perhaps you will have no objection to insert, from another of them, a short scene, in which a beautiful and affecting picture is drawn of the fidelity of a good
servant. I must inform my cottage readers, then, that the scene takes place between a young man of the name of Orlando, and an old servant called Adam, belonging to the family. This Orlando had an elder brother, who envied and hated him on account of his virtues and superior qualities, so that it was dan. gerous for Orlando to remain in his house. The old servant had learned this danger, and was determined to warn his master of it. They are represented as meeting before the house, and the following conversation takes place between them.
Orlando. Who's there?
Adam. What ! my young master?-0 my gentle master,
Orlando. Why, what's the matter?
Adam. O, unhappy youth, Come not within these doors. Within this roof The enemy of all your graces lives. - Orlando. Why, whither, Adam, would'st thou have me go?
Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here. ..Orlando. What, woulds't thou have me go and beg myfood?
Adam. I have five hundred crowns
Orlando. Well, come thy ways, we'll go along together,
Adam. Master, go'on; and I will follow thee,