BY REV. HENRY BACON.

In these days of "exhibitions" and "excursions" which give such rich pleasure to our Sabbath school children, it may be well to turn back something over twenty years, and see what used to be "great things" to the pupils of the Sunday schools. The only festival I ever knew while in a Sabbath school, in my youth, was at Dr. Baldwin's church, Boston. As I was cradled in a different faith, I ought to tell how I came to be a scholar in a Baptist school; and I will do so, as it may give a good hint to some teachers to be impartial.

At the school I attended a decision was made to give a silver medal to the best scholar. A good many of us worked hard for it, especially the boys in the round pews near the pulpit, who had reason to think that the prize would fall to one of their number. A right good feeling prevailed amongst them; all were willing to acquiesce in whatever should be the decision of the superintendent or committee. When the time for decision came, a lad, the son of a deacon, and who had left school and had not been at school for six months, was sent for, and to him the silver medal was given! We all felt outraged, but did not dare to say much. I begged my parents, with good reasoning, to let me go to another school, where I had many friends; and I went to Dr. Winchell's, in Salem street, where Mr. John Gear was superintendent.

What lessons I did get! Whole chapters were recited from the New Testament, because so many verses brought me a reward, so many rewards a mark, and so many marks a book! We had no libraries then. Well, the annual meeting came round, and one evening the school met and marched down to Dr. Baldwin's church. I remember the children did the singing, and while they were singing, of course, I sung; and I have not forgotten how crest-fallen I felt when Mr. Gear came along, and whispered to me, "Don't sing so loud;" but he might just as well have said, "Don't sing," because I knew he did not want me to sing, for I could not keep time. But it was festival-night, and he was extremely good-natured, and did not wish to cut short the privileges of any. A prayer was offered, and then we sung again. A big man, in a large black silk gown, got up, and delivered a sermon; but we did not heed it as we ought to have done, because some tea-chests were ranged along at the base of the pulpit. It was not the tea-chests that attracted our attention, but the sweets that we knew were in them.

After the sermon was over, and the scholars were ranged in order, in single file, they marched up to the table near the chests, and each one received a quarter of a sheet of gingerbread! How rich we were! How sweet the cake tasted! We were in perfect ecstasies at the "great piece" given to each of us! Such rows of happy children are seldom seen, and all because two cents worth of gingerbread was given to them all alike! We had thought of it for weeks, and it was delightful to anticipate the occasion. We felt paid for all the trouble we had met in learning lessons, in getting to school on rainy days, and keeping still and orderly when we got there. And why all this happiness from so slight a cause? Because we all felt loving and happy; we loved our teachers and our school; and it seemed so odd to get gingerbread in the church and from the Sabbath school superintendent.

But how is it now? A long ride or sail; swings, music, cakes, pies, fruit, lemonade, and a vast variety of "good things," must be had, or else the Sabbath school children do not have "a good time!" After all this is had and enjoyed, I do not believe it is any better than our simple quarter of a sheet of gingerbread, unless the scholars love each other more, and their schools better, than we did. Do you, reader?