& cfofu rft MSSk &me. tu.
BY nEYDItS & BEAi'OKD.
WHOLE NO. 2767. VOL 53.
6c 1 1 c t Poct xn .
CLOE TO CLAIM-
A Saratoga Letter.
BY JOHN (is SAXE.
DEAR CLARA : I wish you were here;
The prettiest spot upon earth !
With everything charming, my dear-
Beaux, badinage, music and mirth !
Such rows ol magnificent trees
Overhanging such beautiful walks,
Where lovers may stroll, if they please,
And indulge in the sweetest of talks.
We "o every morning, like geese,
To drink at the favorite spring ;
Six tumblers of water apiece
Is simply the regular thing ;
For such is its wonderful virtue,
Though rather unpleasant at first,
No quantity ever can hurt you,
Unless you should happen to burst!
And then what a gos-ipping sight !
What talk about William and Harry;
How Julia was spending the night;
And why Miss Morton should marry !
Dear Cfara, I've happened to see
Full many a tea-table slaughter,
But, really, scandal with tea,
is nothing to scandal with water !
Apropos of the spring—have you heard
The quiz of a gentleman here
On a pompous M. C., who averred
That the name was remarkably queer !
The Spring—to keep from failing—
With wood is encompassed about.
And derives from its perfnanent railing
The title of "Congress," no doubt!
'Tis plea-ant to guess at the reason—
The genuine motive which brings
Such all sorts of folks in the season,
To stop a few days at the springs.
Some come to dispose of the waters,
(The sensible, old-fashioned elves,)
Some come to dispose of their daughters.
And some to dispose of—themselves !
Some come to exhibit their faces
To new and admiring beholders ;
Some come to exhibit their graces,
And some to exhibit their shoulders ;
Some come to make people stare
At the elegant dresses they've got;
Some to show what a lady may wear,
And, perhaps, what a lady should not!
Some come to squander their treasure,
And some their funds to improve,
And some for nrire love of pleasure ;
And some for the pleasure of love ;
And some to escape from the old,
And some to see what is new ;
But most—it is plain to be told—
Come here—because other folks do!
And that 1 suppose, is the reason,
Why I am enjoying, to day,
What's called "the height of the season,"
In rather the loftiest way.
Good-bye—for now 1 most stop—
To Charley's command I resign—
I'm his for the regular "hop,"
But ever most tenderly thine. CLOE.
—Whoever is afraid of submitting any qoes
inn, civil or religious, to the test of iree discus
ion is more in love with his own opinion than
with truth.
—A girl on a visit to the city,and freh from
the woods, was one day asked how she liked the
country. ".Oh, ma'am," she replied, " I'd like
the country very well if it was only in the city."
Never break your neck to bow at all to a
"sweet sixteen" with a flounced dress, who is
ashamed of her old-fashioned mother : or to a
strutting collegian, who is horrified at his
grandfather's had grammar.
A carpenter's apprentice, too lazv to work,
dodges it in this fashion : when he takes a no
tion, he bumps his nose against a post till it bleeds,
and then sits up to have a resting spell.
—When all the white people of the United
States reduce their expenses one shilling per
dav, it makes a difference of eighteen millions
ofdoliarsa week,and ofover fifty millions y. very
month.
—Professor Agassiz, of Harvard Univesity,
has been offered hv Louis Napoleon the Profess
orship of Paleontology al the Museum <>f Na
tural History in Paris, made • acant by the death )
of Md'Orbigny. He has, however, declined the
honor.
—Senator Pugb, of Ohio, in a speech the
other dav, gave the Black Republicans a hard
blow. He said, 'They had but one United
Stales Mouse of Representatives, and even in
that one, the last two weeks of the session were
spent in quarrelling among themselves as to who
snould be expelled for obtaining the mostptunder.'
—At a Black Republican meeting in Lorain
county, Ohio, on (he 22d ult., Mr. Washburn
gave utterance to the following: "If, because
1 stand up for the equality of the negro, social
ly and politically, with the white man,they cali
me a negro worshipper, let them do it. I shall
persevere to the end."
A GRAVE JOKE.—Some years ago, Spurr kept
a livery stable in Toledo. Spurr had his pecu
liarities. one of which was this: he never let a
horse go out of the stable without requesting the
lessee not to drive fast. One dav there went to
stable a young man, to get a horse and
carriage to attend a funeral. "Cert airily 1 ' said !
' purr, "but," he added, forgetting the solemn!
purpose for which the young man wanted the j
torse, "don't"drive fatt "Why, jest look ai
, °ld feller," said the somewhat excited |
young man, "I want von to understand 'h"t f
v.of-w ith th procession if it kills tho j
? " purr instantly retired to a Jvorse stall j
" d amongst the straw.
CON O'KEEFE
AND THE GOLDEN CUP.
DY R. SUEI.TON MACKENZIE.
In Ireland, as in Scotland, among the lower
orders, there is a preva 1-nt belief in the exis
tence and supernatural powers of the gent:y
commonly called "fairies." Manv and strange
are the stories told of this mysterious and much
dreaded race of beings. Loud and frequent
have been the exclamations of surprise, and even
anger ofthe hard incredulity which made me
refuse, when I was young, to credit nil that was
narrated ofthe wonderful leats of Irish fairies—
the most fiolicksome of the entire genus. The
more my disbeliefwas manifested, the more won
derful were the legends which were launched at
me, to overthrow my matter-of-fact obstinacy.
I have forgotten many ofthe traditions which
were thus made familial- to me in mv boyhood,
but my memory retains sufficient to convince me
to what improbabilities superstition clung—and
the more wonderful the story, the more implicit
the belief. But in such cases the fanaticism was
harmless, — it was ofthe head rather than ollhe
heart—ofthe imagination rather than the reason.
It would be fortunate if all superstitions did as
little mischief as this.
It is deeply to be lamented that the matter-of
factednessof the Americans is not to be subdued
or modified by any—even the slightest—belief
in the old world superstitions, of which I speak.
Of fairy-lore they do not, possess the the slight
est item. They read of it, as i! it were legendary
but nothing more. They f>-el it not they know
it—they are, therefore, dreadfully actual. So
much the worse for them!
Having imbibed a sovereign contempt for the
wild and wonderful traditions which had been
duly accredited in the neighborhood, time out of
mind, I never particularly chary in expressing
such contempt at every opportunity. When
the mind of a boy soars above the ignorance,
which besets his elders in an inferior station,
who had neither the chance nor the desire of
being enlightened, he is apt to pride himself, as
I did,on th "march of intellect" which has
placed him superior to their vulgar credulity.
Many years iaa v - passed since 1 happened to
he a temporary visitor beneath the hospitable
roof of one of the better sort of farmers, in the
county of the Midsummer holi
days. As usual, | there indulged in sarcasm
against the creduliw of the country. One even
ing, in paiticular, I was not a little tenacious
in laughing at the very existence of "the fairy
folk;" and, as sometimes happens, ridicule ac
complished more than argument could have ef
fected. My hosts could bear anything in the
way of argument —at least of argument such as
mine—they could even suffer their favorite
legends and theories about the fairies to be
abused; but to laugh at them—that was an act
ol unkindness which quite passed their com
prehension, and grieviously taxed their pati
ence.
My host wasquitein despair, and almost in
anger at my boyish jokes up >n his fairy-legends
when the village schoolmaster carne in, an un
invited but most welcome guest. A chair was
soon provided for him in the warmest corner—
whiskey was iinrnediatelyon the table, and the
schoolmaster, who was a pretty constant votary
to Bacchus, lost no time in making himself ac
quainted with its flavor.
I had often seen him before. He combined
in hi? character a mixture of shrewdness arid
simplicity: -was a most excellent mathematician
and a good classical scholar—but of the world
he knew next to nothing. From youth to age
had been spent within the limits of the parish
over which, cane in hand, lie had presided for
more than a quarter of a century —at once a
teacher and an oracle! Me was deeply im
bued with a belief in the superstitions of the dis
trict, but was more especially familiar with the
wild legends of the rocky glen (the defile near
Kiiworth, commonly railed Araglin, once fam
ous for the extent of illicit distillation carried
on there,) in which lie had passed away his lite,
usefully, but humbly employed.
To this eccentric character nry host trium
phantly appealed for proof respecting the ex
istence and vagaries of the fairies. He wasted
no time in argument, but glancing triumphant
ly around, declared that he would convert me
by a particularly well-attested storv. Draining
his tumbler, and incontinently mixing another,
Mr. Patrick MeOann [dunged at once into the
heart ol his narration, as follows :
"You know tlie high hill that overlooks the
town at Fenr.oy 1 Handsome and thriving
place as it now is, I remember 'he time when
there were only two houses in that same town,
and one oftheni was then in course of htiilloing !
Well, there Iv.-d on the otb-m side Gorran I'hi
erna (the mountain in question, though Corns*
is tile true name) one of the Harrys, a gentle
man who was both rich and good. I wish we
had more of the stamp among lis now—is little
of the Whiteboys or Rihboumen, would 'trouble
the country then. He had a fine f.rtune, kept
up a fine house, and lived at a dashing rate. It
does not matter, here rtor there, how many ser
vants he had: hut I menti >n thern, because one
of them was a very remarkable fellow. Hi
tqual was not to be had, far or near, for love
nor money.
"This servant was called Con O'Keefe. He
was a crabbed little man, with a face the very
color and texture of old parchment, anil he had
lived in the family time out of mind. He wa.<
such a small, dwarfish, deeny creature, that nc
one ever thought of putting him to hard work.
All that they did was, now and again, from tht
want of a better messenger at the moment, oi
to humor the old man, to send him to Rathcor
mac post-office for letters. But he was toe
weak and feble to walk so far—though it was
only a matter of three or four mi't" • -
got him a little ass. and he* rod" upon it. quite
as proud as a general at the head of an n my o
conquerers. - ' 1 was as go .Jas a play to in* <' t
nrjunted' upon his donkey—you could > ar< d;
FRIDAY MORNING, BEDFORD, PA., OCTOBER 23, 1857.
make out which had the most stupid look. But
neither man nor beast can help hi* looks.
"At that time Rathcormac though 'tis but a
village now, was a borough, and sent two mem
bers to the Irish Parliament. Was not the
srreat Cur ran, the orator and patriot, member for
Rathcormac, when he was a young man ? Did
not Colonel lonsongei made an Irish peer, out
of this very borough, which his son William is,
to this day, by the title of Baron Riverdale of
Rathcormac ? Does not his shield bear an open
hand between two castles, and is not the motto,
'JVlanus haec inimica, tyrannis*—which means
that it was the enemy of tyrants ? Did not the
Ulster King of arms make the Tonsons a grant
of these lands in the time of Cromwell? But
here I have left poor little Con mounted on his
donkey all this time.
"Con O'Keefie was not worth his keep, for
any good he did : but, truth to say, he had the
name of being hand and glove with the fairies;
and, at that time Corran Thierna swarmed with
them. They changed tin ir quarters when the
regiments from Fermoy barracks took to firing
against targets stuck up at the foot of the moun
tain. Not that a ball could ever hit a fairv
(except a silver one cast by a girl in her teens,
who has never wished for a Ic-ver, or a widow
under forty who has not sighed for a second
husband—to there's little chance that it will
ever be cast,) but they hate the noise of the
firing and the smell of gunpowder quite as much
as the devil hates holy water.
"Tis reckoned lucky in these parts to have a
friend of the fairies in the house with you, and
that was partly the reason why Con O'Keefe
was kept at Barry's fort. Many and many a
one could swear to hearing him and the "good
folk' talk together at twilight ori his return
from Rathcormac with the letter-bag. My own
notion is, that it he had anything to sa.v to them,
he had more sense than to hold conversation
with them on the high road, for that might have
led to a general.discovery. Con was fond of a
drop, and when he look it (which was m an al
gebraic way, that is, 'any given quantity,') he
had such tarnous spirits, and his tongue went so
giiblv, that in the absence of other company,
he was sometimes /breed to talk to himself, as
he trotted home.
"One night, as he was going along, rather
the worse for liquor, he thought he heard a con
fused sound of voices in the air, directly over
his head. He stopped, and sure enough it was
the fairies, who were chattering away like a
bevy of magpies, but he did not know this at
the time.
"At first he thought it might he some of the
neighbors wanting to play him a trick. So, to
show that lie was not afraid (lor the drink bad J
made him as bold-tfV'.t lion,) when the voio s a-"*
bove and around him kept calling out, 'High
up ! high up !" be put m his spoke, and shouted
as loud as any of them, 'lligh up! high up,
with ye, rnv lads!' No sooner said than done.
He was whisked ofl'his donkey in a twinkling,
and was high up in the air in the very middle
of a crowd of 'good people'—for it happened to
he one of their festival nights, and the cry that
poor little Con heard was the summons forgath
ering them altogether. Although Con had the
reputation at Barry's fort of being well acquain
ted with them ail, you may well believe that j
there was not a single lace among the lot that
he knew.
"In less than no time, off they went, when
their leader—a little morsel of a fellow, not,
bigger than Hop-o -my-J hntnb—bawied out,
'High for France! high for France! nigh over!'
Off thev went, through the air—quick as it
thev were on a steeple chase—Moss and moor
mountain and valley—green field and brown
|>og land and water, were all !e|t behind, and
thev never once halted until they reached the
coast of France.
"Thev immediately made for tlip house
(there it is called the chateau) of a great lord
one of the Seigneurs of the Court—and bolted ,
through the key-hole into his wine-cellar, with- i
out leave or license. How little Con was
I squeezed through I never could understand, but
i it is as sure as fate that he went into the cellar
with them. Thev soon got astride the casks,
■ and commenced drinking the best wines with
out waiting to he invited. Con you may lie
sure, was not behind anv ol them, as iur as the
i drinking went. The more he drank the better
relish iie had for their tipple. The 'good peo
ple,' somehow or other, did not appear at all
! surprised at Con's being among them, but they
I did wonder at his great thirst, and pressed him
to take enough—and Con was not the man
who'd wait to be asked twice. So they drank
on until night slipped away, when then the
• sun like a proper gentleman as tie is. sent in
1 one of his earliest beams, as a sort of gentle hint
that it was time for them to return. They had
a parting-glass, and in half an hour or so had
crossed Die wide sea, and dropped little Con
('pretty well, I thank you,' by this time) on ;
the precise spot he bad left on the evening .
■ fore. He had been drinking out of a beautiful
: crolden cup in the cellar, and, hy some mistake
jor other it had slipped up the sleeve of the J
' larce loose coat he wore, and so he brought it
home with him. Not that Con was not honest
! enough, but surely a man may be excuseu for
taking 'a cup too much' in a wine cellar.
"Con was soon awakened by the warm sun- '
11). am., playing be. At first hj tta?hl
!he had been dreaming, and he might ha
thought so to his dying day, but that, •*hen he
j cot on bis feet, the golden cup rolled on the
! road before him,and was proof positive that at.
j was a real it v. . 4
Hesaid bis prayers directly, between h.m
' and harm. Then he put up the cup and wa.k
--' S hom " where, as bis little donkey had re
turned on the previous night w,thou h.m -
i familv had given h.m up as mrt or or
rTnde/d ft . mol th 01 M >S ilCf >U -V T ' !
, <, ofji'.s having gone oh e.u
s thy K- •oa.w.my . r *
i with the ta.i n'S. x
"Vow does not my story convince y.u
' - i-'rr It IS UOt
Freedom of Thought and Opinion.
more* than twenty years since I have heard
Con O'Keefe tell the whole story frombeginning
to end ; and he'd say or swear with any man
that the whole of it was as true as gospel.—
And as sure as my name is Patrick McCann I
do believe that Con was in strange company
that night,
I ventured to say to Mr. McCann that, being
yet incredulous, I must have better evidence
than little Con's own declaration.
"To be sure you shall," said he. "\\ as not
the golden cup taken up to Barry's fort and
to be seen—as seen it was—bv the whole coun
try ?"
I answered that, "Certainly, if the cup
is to be seen there, the case is materially alter
ed."
"I did not say that the cup /sat Barry's fort,"
said McCann, "only that it was. The end of
the story, indeed is nearlv as strange as the be
ginning:— When Con O'Keefe came back from
this wonderful excursion, no one believed a word
of what he said : for though it was whispered
that he was great with the fairies, yet when the
matter canw tangibly before them they did not
credit it. But Con soon settled their doubts ;
he brought forward the cup, and there was no
gainsaying that evidence.
"My Barrv took the cop into his own keep
ing, and, the name and residence of the French
lord being engraved upon it, determined (as in
honor bound) to send it home again. So he
went off to Cove without anv delay; taking Con ;
with him : and as there luckily was a vessel go- !
ing off to France that very day, he sent off lit
tle Con with the cup and his very best compli- ;
ments.
Now, the cup was a great favorile with the
French lord (being a piece of family plate, giv
en to one of his ancestors by one of the old
kings of France, whose life he had saved in bat- '
tie), and nothing could equal the hubbub and j
confusion that arose when it was missing. His j
lordship called for some wine at dinner, and i
great was his anger when the lackey handed it ;
to him in a glass, declaring that they could riot i
find the golden goblet. He threw glass, and i
wine, and all. at the servant's nead—flew into
a terrible passion—and swore, by all that was
good and bad, that he would not take anything
stronger than water until the cup was on the
table again ; and that if it was not forthcoming I
in a week, he'd turn oifevery servant he had,
without paying them their wages, or giving
them a character.
, "The cup was well searched lor, but all to no
purpose, as von may suppose. At last the week ;
came to an end —all the servants had their
clothes packed to be off in the morning. His
lordship was getting dreadfully tired of drink- i
ing cold water, and the whole house was. as one
may say, turned topsy-turvy, when to the de
light and admiration of all, in came Con O'-
Keefe, from Ireland, with a letter from Mr. j
Barrv and the cup in his fist.
"I rather think they welcomed him. His]
lordship made it a point to get 'glorious' that j
night and, as in duty bound, the entire house-j
hold followed bis example, with all the pleasure ;
in life. Voir may be certain that Con played :
awav finely at the wine—you know the fairies I
had made him free of the cellar—so he knew ;
the fast n of the liquor, and relished it too. There ;
can he no doubt that there was a regular jollifi
cation io the chateau that night.
"Con remained in France for a month, and
perfectly in clover, for, from the lord to the
lackey, every one Miked him. When he re
turned he had a heavy purse of gold for himself,
and many fine presents for his master. In
depd. while the French lord lived, which was
for fifteen good years longer, a couple of hogs
heads of excellent claret were annually received
at Bariy's fort, as a present from him, and
there was no wine in the country to equal it.
As for Con O'Keefe, he never had the hick
to meet the fairies again, a misfortune he
verv sincerely lamented. And that's the;
whole storv."
I asked Mr. McCann whether he really he- 1
lieved all of it. That worthy replied in these;
words; —
"Why, in truth, 1 must say. some parts of it ■
required rather an elastic mind to take in : but
there's no doubt that Con tens sent over to j
France, where it is said, there was a great todo !
about a golden cup. lam positive that Mr. Bar
rv used to receive a present of claret every vear, j
front a French lord, for I've drank some of the i
best claret in Ireland from Mr. Barry's cellar.
Tf the tale he true —and T have told it as T beard
Con O'Keefe tell it, especially when overcome
by liquor, at which time the truth is sure to 1
romeont disproof positive that there have;
been fairies in this neighborhood, and that with
in the memory of man !"
Such a logical conclusion was incontroverti
ble, especial I hen enforced by a facetious)
wink from the schoolmaster : so I even left mat- :
ters as they were, and listened with all proper ;
attention to other stories in the same vein, and
to the same effect. If the narrator did not credit
them, most of his auditors did, which amounts'
to much the same in the end. Some other time, j
perhaps, f may be tempted to relate them.
Wait.
Of course it is very hard to wait. No matter
whether yon have to wait in certainty, or in
doubt; whether for the fulfilment of a promise
or the arrival of a "ship load of money," wait
ing is tedious, and one feels that patience is a
virtue. Young Hopeful cannot wait for dinner
a id spoils his appetite and digestion with apples
aid bread and butter. Older grown, he cannot
wait for his majority and borrows. Tell people to
wait and they answer tb.a' b'ejral!
•Mve wait.-:! long enough, .ti:l waiting makes
fj Ye ! uiting i- F- • rIo 1 of moral
, strength. The grandest achievements have to
:• way for, Small min- * are always fizzing
and leaking ' when the time comes they are
if: . th n iVi or emp- y. London Times,
THE GRANDEUR OF NATURE.
We live peaceably on the surface of the
earth, while oceans of fire roll beneath our feet.
In the interior of the globe the everlasting forge
is at work. How dreadful must an earthquake
be, when we are told by Pliny that twelve
cities in Asia Minor were swallowed in one
night. Not a vestige remained—they were lost
in the tremendous Forever ! Millions of beings
have been swallowed up while flying for safety.
In the bowels of the earth Nature performs her
wonders at the same moment that she is firing
the heavens with her lightnings. Her thundprs
roll above our heads and beneath our feet, where
the eye of mortal man never penetrated. In the
vast vortex of the volcano the universal forge
empties its mplted metals. The roar of Etna
has been the knell of thousands, when it poured
forth its cataract of fire over one of the fairest
portions of the earth, and swept into ruins ages
of industry. In the reign of Titus Vespasian,
m the year 70, the volcano of Vesuvius dashed
its fiery billows to the clouds, and buried in burn
ing lava the cities of Hercularieum, Stabic and
Pompeii, which then flourished near Naples.
In the streets once busy with the hum of indus
try, and where the celebrated ancients walked,
the modern philosopher now stands and rumin
ates upon fallen grandeur. While the inhab
itants were unmindful of tbp danger which
awaited them ; while, they were busied with the
plans of wealth and greatness, the irresistible
flood of fire came roaring from the mountain,
and shrouded them in eternal night. Seven
teen centuries have rolled over them, and their
lonely habitations and works remain as their
monuments. They were swept away in the
torrent of time—the waves of ages have set
tled over them, and art alone has preserved their
memory. Great Nature, how sublime are all
thy works !
ANCIENT FAMILIES. —It is well known that
| the Highlanders are great sticklers for hered
! itary honors, and trace back, with the most ear
! nest veneration, the origin of families into
I the remotest ages. An amusing instance of this
: tenacity to hold to the dignity and antiquity of
their kindred, may be found in the case we sub
join. !
A dispute arose between Campbell and M'-
j Lean upon this never dying subject.—M'Lean
1 would not allow that the Campbells had any
j right to rank with the M'Leans in antiquity.
who he insisted, were in existence as a clan
; from the beginning of the world. Carribpell
' had a little more biblical lore than his antagonist
I snd asked him ifthe M'Lean clan lived before
the flood.'
"Flood! what floodl" said M'Lean.
"Why the flood, that you know, drowned all
; the world but Noah, and his family, and his
flock," replied Campbell.
"Pooh! you and your flood," said M'Lean,
| my clan was afore the flood.
1 "I have not read in the Bible," said Campbell,
of the name of M'Lt-an going into Noah's
I ark!"
i "Noah's ark !" retorted M'Lean, in con
; tempt "whoever heard of a M'Lean, that had
not a boat of bis own ?"
! HEAVEN. —Can mortal minds conceive the
glorv of that upper sphere, where the sun never
j goes down, and night never can come. Where
' the river of life rolls its crystal waves around
the high white throne of the great Eternal,
j Fairer flowers than any Flora's hand has strewn
jon earth, bloom in the fields of Immortality.
! Cherub forms float on the waves of music,
j swept from the Golden harps of God's elect.—
Earth's brightest sun-beams are but darkness
compared to the light that emanates from the
! Sun of Righteousness. Frail mortals deem it
shadowy land! Not so! Ttiere, no clouds
| come to dim the light of eternal day! Sorrow
never flings its dark mantle o'er sinless dwell
ers there, and death cannot enter the better
land. Shipwrecked mariner tossed on life's
tempestuous sea ! Wearv pilgrim, treading
1 the patii that leads to death! Let not earth's
fleeting pleasures deceive you ; trust alone in
Heaven.
-
Two SCOTCHMEN thus discoursed :
i "Aw say, Georgie, man,aw hear thou's been
' makin a fule o' theesei'?"
"A v, man, I've gotten a wife."
"Why, didst thou know ative dun that same
thing mesel'? What kind o' body bast thou
i gotten!"
"A perfect deevai, man—a perfect deev
: a I."
"Smash me, man, an wish mine war nae
| warse than that."
"Warse than that!" responded Georgie, "how
car. she be warse than that ? Isn't Beelzebub
; the warst critter a man cood have tor an akwent
| ence i' this world ?"
"Nought o' the kind, man—nought o' the
i kind. Did'st thou knaw what the Bible says
(and thou knawst it cannot ue wrong) ! It says,
'resist the deevai, and he'll flee from you ;' but,
bless thy soul, sample lad, if ye resist my wife,
I she'll flee right at ye."
A BAD "CASE." —Dobbs rushed to the Doc
tor's office with terror depicted upon his visage
in unmistakeable characters. He looked pale :
his nostrils were dilated, and there wns an un-'
easy look in his eyes. The doctor noticed it
instantly and inquired, with as little exhibition
of excitement as the nature of the case would
admit : —"Why what's the matter, Dobbs ?"
j Dobbs dropped into a chair iu an all-gone-a
--j tivenes manner peculiarly touching. I don't
know, he replied •"T believe Tam >•;; '' •
h.n. t '.- sn;.i i'-p-ix." "Why how do '■*<■ .:. ■ -!:
• in! the doctor. "O, Ido not know, hardly.'"
said D ■ "J a great relucMm •* to do at.y
--1 thing." The doctor inquired lv.w long he trad
, had the symptoms, D^ro,
' "/'we always \n " ■ ■ Ti - .* •. ' . ■ . .
! Dobbs'case was evidently past ail Snn.yTy.
TERRS, $2 PER YEAR.
NEW SERIES VOL I, NO. 12.
WHAT SCIENCE SAYS OF BREADMA"
KING-
It is a praiseworthy characteristic of the A
merican people, that they are curious to know
the philosophy of all things. Causality, as the
phrenologist would say, is large among us.—
We analyze the smallest as well as the greatest
objects. The reason why the stars keep to their
orbits is hardly more interesting to our practical
minds than the mysteries involved in bread-ma
king.
For the making of good bread, to thousands
and tens of thousands of housewives even, is a
mystery. Cooks pride themselves on their suc
cess in the art ; and naturally : for it is a distinc
tion to be able to insure light bread. Yet of a
hundred thousand breadmakers, how few under
stand why it is that the bread is sometimes good
and sometimes bad ! The proficient has a kr.ack
in kneading and baking her bread ; and that is
all she knows about it. The rival, whose bread
is a failure, can only say that the baking
went wrong ; and is as much in the dark as
the other.
To make bread the flower has first to be
kneaded. But why knead it 1 Because a cer
tain quantity of water, in addition to that ex
isting in the flour, is necessary to produce those
chemical changes, without which good bread
can never be made. The water dissolves the
sugar and albumen: combines with and hydrates
the starch; and moistens the minute particles of
gluten, so as to induce them to cement together,
and thus bind the whole into a coherent mass.
The good house wife knows, by practice, when
this state of things has been brought about; in
other words, when her dough is properly knead
ed. For as only a certaiu limited quantity of
water can be used to produce this effect, as too
much or too little would wholly frustrate the
end, it is plain that the water must be carefully
and thoroughly worked into the flour; so as to
bring every separate particle of the one into
contact with the required amount of the other.
Kneading, with the hand, is the sole way to do
this. The competent housewife tells by the
feeling when her dough is fit to put away to
rise. No machinery can do it perfectly.
The next process is the fermentation. This
is produced, generally, by yeast; and always
more safely and perfectly by it. Yeast, as the
microscope has proved, is a vegetable—a true
plant belonging to the fungus tribe. It makes
bread rise, by producing a changp of the gluten
or albumen, which acts upon the sugar, break
ing it up into alcohol and carbonic acid gas.—
If the dough has been skillfully kneaded, and the
fermentation is regular and equal, the gas is
evolved evenly throughout the mass, so that
the bread, when cut, will be honeycombed with
numberless minute pores. Bad yeast, or a bad
fermentation, makes the bread sour, which the
experienced housewife corrects with a little al
kali. Chemical substances are sometimes used
to make bread rise. But Youmans, the chemist
to whom we are indebted lor most of these
facts, says, that as such substances are not nutri
tive, but medicinal, they exert a disturbing ac
tion on the healthy organism, and, consequent
ly, ought not to be employed habitually. Oth
er writers, also, have attributed the increase of
dyspepsia to the wide-spread introduction of
these agents as a substitute for yeast.
The baking of the loaf, as every housewife
knows, is not the least part of the "art and
mystery" of bread-baking. The heat of the
oven should be equal everywhere throughout
it, and should continue constant for a consider
able time. Ifthe heat is insufficient, the bread
will b" soft, wet and pasty; if too great, the
crust will be burnt, the inside raw dough. The
baking temperature of an oven should range
350 deg. Fahrenheit, to 500 deg. An ordinary
way of testing when an oven is proper for bak
ing, is to strew fresh Hour on the bottom, and if
the flour chars, the heat is excessive. The loaf
diminishes in weight and enlarges in size bv
baking, in consequence of the evaporation of
the water, the expansion of its carbonic acid
gas, and the vaporizing of its alcohol. The
crust is caused by chemical changes in the out
er surface of the loaf, producing an organic
matter which chemists call assamar. Such is
the scientific history of breadmaking.— Phil.
Ledger.
DANIEL WEBSTER ON THE LOVE OF HOME.
—lt is only shallow-minded pretenders who
make either distinguished origin a matterof per
sonal merit or obscure origin a matter of per
sonal reproach. A man who is not ashamed of
himself need not be ashamed of his early con
dition. It did happen to me to be bom in a log
cabin, raised among the snow drifts of New
Hampshire, at a period so early that when the
smoke first rose from its rude chimney and curl
ed over the frozen hills there was no similar
evidence of white habitation between it and the
settlements on the rivers of Canada. Its re
mains still exist: I make it an annual visit. I
carry mv children to it, and teach them the
hardships endured by their relations before
them. I love to dwell on the tender recollec
tions. the kindred ties, the early affections, and
the narrations and incidents which mingle with
all I know of the primitive family abode; I weep
to think that none of those who inhabited it are
now amongst the living, and if 1 ever /ail in af
fectionate veneration for hint who raised it, and
defended it against savage violence and destruc
tion, cherished all domestic comforts beneath its
roof, and through the fire and blood of seven
years revolutionary war shrunk from no toil, no
sacrifice to serve his country, and to raise his
children to a condition better than bis own, ma;
mv name and th" ram" of my ? \
Or,.- cann. t see the grand sepulchres ot
Egvp,,M*s Emerson,) without i'eei;ng that for
sue I) si truiV') ino almost wish to di<*.—
;!r, . u-i the high marble wails and ceilings
so o!irately cai ved, were not so much tombs as
. >' ui-nin-T chambers for immortal spirits.