THE ANCOATS SKYLARK.
"Perhaps it was difficult for people to understand the extraordinary
ignorance of town children in such districts as he was referring to
respecting the commonest natural objects. The other day he was
inspecting a school in Ancoats, and the boys in the first class were
repeating some poetry they had learnt about a skylark. He enquired
whether anyone had ever seen a lark ; there was a silence, but a boy
presently held out his hand to signify he wished to speak, and on his
saying, " Well, where did you see a lark ? " he answered, " In the
public-house at the corner of the street, in a cage." He (Mr. Oakeley)
thought, "Poor caged lark, and poor caged little lad."
—
Speech of
Mr. H. E. Oakeley, H.M. Senior Inspector of Schools, at the opening
of the Manchester School Board Central Higher. Grade School, July,
1884.
WILLIAM E. A. AXON
'T'HE day was hot, the summer sun
Pierced through the city gloom ;
It touched the teacher's anxious face,
It brightened all the room.
Around him children of the poor,
III fed, with clothing scant,
The flotsam of the social wreck.
The heirs of work and want.
The sunlight glorified their rags
As he essayed to tell
The wonders of the country side,
Of clough, and burn, and fell.
For, as he spoke, the schoolroom walls
Kept fading from his sight.
He stood upon his native hills,
All bathed in golden light.Once more he heard the skylark sing,
Sing right at heaven's door,
And fill the span of earth beneath
With music from its store.
A summer cloud sailed o'er the sky.
The sunlight passed away,
The teacher saw his puny boys
With city grime all grey.
" And which of you has heard a lark,
" Or seen its fluttering wings,
" As o'er the hills of Lancashire
" It rises and it sings ?
" Ah, no, the hills are far away,
" From Ancoats' toil and stress.
" The skylark, have you heard its song
" Or seen its homely dress ?
"
A silence fell upon the class,
On all the listening ring.
Then one said, " Sir, I've seen a lark,
" And heard him loudly sing."
" And where, my little Ancoats lad,
" Did you the layrock see ?
"
" 'Twas in a wooden cage that hung
" Outside the ' Cotton Tree.'
"
Alas, poor bird ! chained thus amidst
The city's smoke and gloom.
No more for thee the sunny sky.
The wild flower's sweet perfume.
Alas, poor caged Ancoats boy !
That freedom's song ne'er heard
Trilled o'er the fells of Lancashire
By this bright poet-bird.Alas the teacher, who of hills
The dear delight has known,
And, now amidst the city slums,
Is bound by walls of stone.
And yet the teacher finds it joy
To help the laddish throng
;
The boy is blithe, and strong of heart,
The bird ne'er fails in song.
So may the teacher's magic art.
The bird's melodious ditty,
The sunshine of the boyish heart.
Ne'er fade from out the city.
Until the time once more shall come.
When free from bars and ties,
The bonny layrock's song shall thrill
Through all the Ancoats skies.
 |
THE PHOTOGRAPHIC ART.
From Leo. XIII.
"THE sun's bright pencil's flaming tip
Has drawn the image we descry
—
Drawn ample brow and smiling lip
And tender light of beaming eye.
O wondrous art, invention rare,
A marvel subtle, strange and new !
Apelles, Nature's rival, ne'er
So beautiful a picture drew."
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