THE NORMAL SCHOOL.
EDITORS.
Associate Kriltnr; L. A Bates,
Kf.tiA Looak,
Local.
A IlAfNY DAY.
Tho dull gray clouds form an impen
etrable curtain through which no ray of
bunlight can pierce. "The clay is cold,
dark, and dreary." Hut half the drear
inoss is taken away by knowing that these
clouds have silvoiy linings, and that the
sunbeams are playing hidc-and-scek in the
great billowy masses above the blackness,
making fantastic shadows, like those
formed by the mists which sometimes
hang over our lakes. All this beauty wo
see only in imagination, liut very easily
can we sec the black, threatening sky, tlio
uninviting streets, now crossed by num.
berless miniature river systems, that at
last unite and form a little sea on tlio
croquet ground, which only last night
was the resort of a merry company who
rejoiced in tho cloudless sky and glorious
moonlight. But " Us changed as all tilings
change here." Nothing in this world
can last. Now we hear the wild wind
shout in exultation as in its fury it rushes
on, driving beforo it great sheets ot rain
which it in madness dashes against our
windows, then on again, leaving tho crys
al drops to course slowly down tho pane,
like tears down the cheek of a sorrowing
child.
This terrific outburst is succeeded by
a partial calm; we can hear (ho mourn
ful rustling of tlio leaves, tho patter, patter
of tho rain; tho ceaseless drip, drip from
tho eaves, the murmuringof our miniature
river system, and from the distance comes
tlio rushing and roaring of tho swolon
streams beyond.
Kainy days impress mo so strangely,
tho wild outbursts tilling mo with half
terrified, half reckless thoughts. But the
calms that come now and then impress
me strongly with an impulse to cry, since
Damo Nature is indulging. All, seol tlio
storm king has retired, and my room is
Hooded willi sunlight; tho wind and rain
have ceased ; the clouds are all broken up
in the west, and arc now a heaped
and tumbled mass of glory, gorgeous
in gold and purple. The colors creep
slowly up toward tlio zenith, until tlio
whole heavens arc ono grand, beauti
fill scene. Earth too is beautified; the
drops of rain clinging to the leaves aro
radiant gems in the sunlight. The plants
and grasses aro relieved of the dust of
weeks, and are now holding up their heads
in silent thankfulness. All nature is hap.
py. How wiso are thy works, O wonder
fill Father. Thou makest sadness and joy
to Mend in all things, like the darkness of
tho morning and tho glorious light of
Now. Delilah.
AMBITION AND CONTENTMENT.
It is said that all virtues carried to ox
tronics, become vices; llrmness may be
made obstinacy; gentleness weakness.
Tlio wish to store awny gold for future
comforts, may bo become tho miserly de
sire to lioaVd it for its glitter. Therefore it
is necessary, in the cultivation of these
virtues, that care should bo taken that
thoy do not become vices. Contentment
is a virtue, often urged upon us, and too
often urged upon us, and too often nog
lected. It is essential to our happiness.
Wo can experience no pleasure, while
murmuring at our situation. But when
contentment degenerates into that slothful
feeling which will not exert itself for
greater good, which would sit in perfect
ease, and smile upon tlio gifts which
providence has given, turning from tho
object which calls for the activo spring
and tenacious grasp then contentment
has ceased to bo a virtue: it is but an ex.
cuso for indolence.
Ambition is often denounced as a vice,
and it is a vice, when carried to such an
