It is a recent thing with us to have splendid school-houses. Afterall, the norm, as you might say, is still "The 0ld Red School-house."You must recollect how hard the struggle is for the poor farmer,with wheat only a dollar a bushel, and eggs only six for a quarter;with every month or so taxes of three and occasionally four dollarson an eighty-acre farm grinding him to earth. It were folly toexpect more in rural districts than a tight box, with benches anda stove in it. Never-the-less, it is the thing signified more thanits outward seeming that catches and holds the eye upon the countryschool-house as you drive past it. You count yourself fortunate if,mingled with the creaking of the buggy-springs, you hear the hum ofrecitation; yet more fortunate if it is recess time, and you cansee the kidren out at play, the little girls holding to oneanother's dress-tails as they solemnly circle to the chant:

"H-yar way gow rand tha malbarry bosh, Tha malbarry bosh, tha malbarry bosh, H-yar way gow rand tha malbarry bosh 0n a cay-um and frasty marneng."

The boys are at marbles, if it is muddy enough, or one-old-cat, orpom-pom-peel-away, with the normal percentage of them in reboanttears - that is to say, one in three.

But even this is not the moment of illumination, when it comes uponyou like a flood how glorious is the land we live in, upon whatsure and certain footing are its institutions, when we know byspiritual insight that whatsoever be the trial that awaits us, thepeople of these United States, we shall be able for it! Yes. Weshall be able for it.