LETTERS FROM CHILDREN. most of them. Those placed out by the Children's Friend Society at Worcester, and the few who go out from the Home for the Friendless at Springfield, are visited annually. I intended to present a statement showing the number of children placed out from all the private institutions of the State, but have not time to complete it for this Report. CORRESPONDENCE. Correspondence with the children, and the families in which they live, has become an important feature of the Agency. During the year I have received from the children over eight hundred letters, and have replied to them all, answering all their inquiries, and endeavoring to interest them to continue the correspondence; deeming it profitable to them and one of the best means for ascertaining their condition. One of the children, fifteen years of age, who did not know how to write, became ambitious to learn, and succeeded, for the purpose of writing to your Agent. A few quotations will show the general character of the letters received: : From Children. (1.) "Dear Friend: I have learned to write a little, and I think you will be glad to hear from me. I am well and enjoy myself nicely. I have had my picture taken, and send you one. I would like very much to have you send me yours. I was in hopes to see you last fall, but did not. I wish you would write as soon as you can. I shall write to you often. I am going to school. We have a kind teacher. I have improved since you saw me. I have been through my Geography, and half through my Arithmetic. I have not missed in my spelling or whispered this term. It is still as mice in school. I wish you would tell me where my sister is—what State she lives in, so that I can write to her. I would like to know if she is well. I would like to know if she has got a good home. I would like to know how much older she is than me. I am twelve years old. It is most spring. This is my first letter. It is most sugaring time. I shall make some cakes of sugar for you. I hope you are well." (2.) "Come and see me as soon as you get this. I do not go to school much. I have no books as other children have. My clothes are real shabby." REPORT OF THE VISITING AGENT. (3.) "My Dear Friend: I write to tell you that I have a pleasant home, and love to stay here very much. I like that book that you gave me. I am now going to school, and am in the large Arithmetic and Geography. I call Mr. and Mrs. father and mother, and they are very kind to me, and I go to Sunday school and learn my lessons from the Bible. I feed the chickens, and work in the garden a little, but I do not work on the farm, because father does not think I am strong enough now; but, by and by, I will stay out of school summers to help father some." (4.) "It is nearly nine years since I left Monson. Don't suppose I would know it now. I intend to see my sister another year, and shall try and make you a call on my way. I have got a very nice place to live, and like Mr. very much. I expect to go to school next week, and am going to try teaching next winter, and want to review my studies before I undertake it." (5.) "Kind and Best Friend: I write to let you know that I love my new place, and think you could not get me a better place than I have. I love Mr. and Mrs. and think I shall stay here till I am of age, and longer. I go to Sunday school, and like to go here. Come and see me as soon as you can." (6.) "This is my first letter. I have wanted to write you for some time. I am going to school, and study Arithmetic and Geography. We have a good teacher. She helps me get out my lessons. I want to come to Monson and see how all the boys do. That book was quite interesting-I have read it twice. I like to have you come and see me. Mr. and Mrs. send their love to you." (7.) "I wish you would get me another place. I am abused here. I don't have so good clothes as other boys. I have to work Sundays and evenings, and get up early. I would like to learn a trade. The carpenter's trade would suit me." (8.) "I have been married since you visited me, yet I have not forgotten the State's goodness in sending some one to see how I was getting along, and I enclose you my picture. I enjoy myself very much, and I hear from my brother you found for me very often. When you come this way, don't fail to come and stop with us. We shall be very happy to see you." (9.) "I am trying to be a good girl, but I give way to my temper sometimes; but I will try to be good with God's help. When I get angry, I think of what you have said and wrote to me, and then try to control myself and do better. I hope I shall learn to govern myself." LETTERS FROM CHILDREN. (10.) "I used to think the State was very hard, to put me in the poor-house and then bind me out. It seemed just like slavery, and you don't know how very hard it has seemed. I think differently now, and I believe the State is my friend. I hope you will look after the other boys, too, for I know some of them have hard places. I guess they will be glad to have you come to see them." (11.) "This is from a child that is trying to be good and do well to please you." (12.) "You cannot tell how much and many times I think of you. You are all the friend I have any hope in, and I will stay my time out because you want me to. I do not like farming as well as some other work, but shall keep at it because you think it is best." (13.) "I am greatly obliged to you for informing me that I have a sister. I did not know that I had any relatives living. I often think of the five years I spent in the State House and of all those little boys that went to school with me, and wonder where they are. I hope they have been fortunate enough to get as good homes as I have. I would like to have the boys at the Almshouse see our sheep and lambs. If they are as ignorant of sheep as I was when I came here, they will not know what they are. I am a pretty good farmer now. I hope to be a man, and be an honor to the State House." (14.) "I want to put you to one more trouble. I want to find my brothers if they are alive, and yet I do not want them to know where I am, unless they are what they should be. I am glad that we (or all the children) have some one we can look to and trust in. I think you take a great deal of interest in them,―more than I should suppose any one would." (15.) "I write to ask if you can find me a place where I can work for my board and recruit my health. I have worked too hard in the mill, and am scarcely able to work longer. I have no home to go to, and hardly know what to do with myself, and the doctor talks discouragingly. I hate to trouble you, knowing you have enough else to attend to, and that you have already done a great deal for me, but I have no one else to go to, and I feel that you are the only one who will help me. I cannot bear the thought of ever returning to Monson." (16.) "I write to you for advice, for I am much in need of some one to tell me what to do. It seems that my life is one of misfortune. I told you how I had struggled to help father (her master) after he came home from war, and his sickness cost him all his REPORT OF THE VISITING AGENT. property. His death and our poverty has turned me again into the world, and I have worked very hard and am overdone. Now, sick and poor, the almshouse again stares me in the face. I have tried to get an education so as to teach, but without health I cannot do that. I find friends, but you know they cannot long have me on their hands at an expense. I am despondent as well as sick, and have but one friend I can go to, to find comfort, and that is my Heavenly Father, who has promised that those who love him shall be cared for. "It was kind in you to inquire for me when here last, and it is this kindness of the State, through you, which prompts me to write and ask you if you can find me some light work to do, where I can pay my way till I get better." From Families. (1.) "Our two children have done much better since you were here. If they will continue doing as well, we shall find no cause for complaint." (2.) "You had better come and see William. He is very discontented, and wants to go for himself. He is encouraged by other boys. He is also disobedient at times, and I cannot put up with it. A good talking to from you may do him good." (3.) "Ann is doing better since you came to see her. She says she is now satisfied she has a good home. She can do nobly." (4.) "The little boy you sent us is a prize. He is doing exceedingly well." (5.) "We thank you for restoring to us our little Mary. She arrived safely and our hearts are glad. Look well to our little Caty. Tell her to be obedient to the family she lives with. I hope we may be able to take her home sometime. We feel that she will not be used badly while under your care. Write often and let us know how she gets along." (6.) "I ought to have written before to tell you that the little girl I took two years ago, when three weeks old, and which we had taken to our hearts in room of the children God had taken to himself, and had her baptized in our name, God has taken from us, and we buried her beside our own children, and our house is again desolate." THE WANT AND SUPPLY OF CHILDREN. In visiting children, and looking for homes for others, I have visited, in the past two years, nearly twelve hundred families, THE BEST HOMES FOR CHILDREN. mostly in agricultural neighborhoods, and have inquired concerning the number of children in several hundred more. We have been accustomed to look for children in these localities, but the dearth has become greater in the rural districts than in larger communities. In one small mountain town, I was told that half the families were childless. This accounts for the large number of deserted and dilapidated country schoolhouses, and discontinued school-districts. It also affords a reason why so many old-fashioned country-houses, built for large families, are now tenantless of children "Whose door-paths rank with weeds and grasses are, These are the localities where our homeless children are wanted, to bring back life and cheer to depopulated family mansions, and fill a void in the affections of their owners. If half the families thus situated could be persuaded to take children, the charitable institutions of the State could not supply the demand. As an inducement it would be better for the State to pay a small sum to families who take children under six or eight years of age. Many families who now feel that they cannot afford to bring them up to a paying age, would not long hesitate for a small remuneration,-much less than it costs to support them in the Primary School or Almshouse. Such an experiment would work well for the child. A family will become more attached to a young child than to an older one, and this attachment will be mutual. The family would not be willing to part with their charge when it became older, and the girl or boy would always have a good home. This has been found to be the case, in almost every instance, where families have taken the young children. In finding homes it has been my purpose to obtain those that would be permanent. It works badly to change places often, and the child, shifted from one family to another, acquires no affection for either, and finds no place it can call home. The best places for children from our institutions, are found among the farmers, remote from populous villages. They are anxious to escape the discipline and confinement of institution |