VOLUME 56.
NEW SERIES.
HHHE BEDFORD GAZETTE,
IS PUBLISHED EVERV FRIDAY MORNING
BY B. F- MEYERS,
At the following terms, to^wit:
SI.SQ per annum, CASH, in advance.
$2.00 " " if paid within the year.
$2 50 " " if "of P a ' d within the year.
rr7"No subecription taken for less than six months.
nJ-Xo paper discontinued until ali arrearages are
Da id unless at the option of the publisher. ,t has
been'decided by the United States Courts that the
stoppage of a newspaper without tne payment ot ar
rearages, is prima facie evidence ot fraud and is a
criminal offence.
rrs-The courts have decided that persons are ac
countable for the subscription price of newspapers,
it the) take them from the post office,whether 'hey
subscribe for them, or not.
s£l ec t so£t ru.
ALL ABOIT HOOPS.
"it cannot be—it cannot be ;
Fain would 1 grant the claitnied kiss,
But, dearest, you must Surely see
It never can be done in tki* -
She pointed to ber bristling dress.
With flounced outworns branching off,
Proof agains every fond caress—
A siU and velvet MaUaoff!
Full fifteen paces round about,
And full five paces through and through ;
Ah, me !
The slender one that once I Knew!
I paced my lady round and round,
(Which seemed an endless tasa to do,)
In hope some loophole might be found
Which storming love might stiuggl* through.
Jn vain, in vain—'twas perfect all ;
She stood, the fashion of the day,
Whose rampart, bastion, tower, and wall
.Might hold beleaguering hosts at bay.
Curtained and fringed, and fortified,
A whalebone ' 'harness on her bacK,"
And though bemmed in on every side,
Intrenched securely from attaca.
t compassed her about again,
Resolved to prove a firm adorer :
Found force and strategy in vain-
Laid siege to and sat down before her.
"Starvin"," i said, "won't maKehei thinner,
Sapping and mining must cot be—
Alas ! I've little hope to win her,
Unless she sallies out to me
So Ilium holds my Helen-aiss,
I, Greece will ne'er retire w ; thout her,
Bur, battling daily lor my bliss,
Will lie encamped ten years about her.
"• tvi
Finding, as fails each desperate cast,
That patience is the better force,
I trnst to win the town at last—
The changing Modes my Wooden Horse !
©riginal Cak.
[Written expressly for the 3edfo:d Gazette.]
A BROKE A HEART.
BY A PLOWMAN.
Who believes that there ever was a broken
heart ? Most people do not, and there was a
time long years ago, when I was of that num
ber. But, dear reader, when as ir.any sum
> . men and winters have gone over your head as
have gone over mine and have left as many
marks there, you will find that a goodly number
of the fixed opinions with which you started
out on life's longjourney, have been strange
ly altered by the way. Time works wonderlul
havoc with our notions of things, and experi
ence undermines the foundations of many an
air-built structure. This old plow of mine,
with its iron coulter, steel-edged, and wooden
mould-board, iron-shod, old fashioned too,though
it has now lain so long idle in its furrow as to
bave become rusty, has, in its time, turned up
many a curious thing, in the weary leagues o- j
ver which it has travelled. True, it moves un- j
evenly now, for the team is not well broken to
the harness after its long rest; but, by and by,
as it gets more used to the work, it will draw
more steadily, or at least more smoothly.
The heart, what a mystery it is ? Who can 1
yrad it ? Who latbom its depths ? How like
flit to those beautiful glass globes, which re
flect the varied hues of the myriad of prismatic
shapes within them, all brightness and beauty
—enduring for years if carefully treasured, and
yet so fragile that the pressure of the thumb
and fingers will shiver them to pieces.
The foiiowing sketch from actual life will
illustrate the thought. It was one of those sim
ple'occurrences, which take place daily, and are
disregarded from their frequency. Were weto
attend to the things that are continually pas
sing around us, we would cease to be surprised
at what are designated wonders; but we let e
vents pass by, without contemplation ; and
when the roost simple circumstance forces it
self upon our attention, we are as much aston
ished at it as if we had happened upon a mira
cle.
In the corner of a churchyard of a certain
village which shall be nameless, is a neat green
grave, upon which the sun casts bis earliest
*ays, ready to drink up the dewy libation
which night ha<l poured out upon the carpet of
violets luxuriantly spread by nature above the
tenements of the dad. A lady friend once
pointed it out to me and gave me tba history
of its occupant.
It was at that time of life when the affec
tions are warmest and also purest, that Alice
Steel met William Hay ward. Tt was a time
when the heart is young and guileless. Then
the affairs ofthis world pass over us like sum
mer clouds across the sun, without a shadow
and leaving behind nothing but brightness.
The hopes of the future ate ail modelled from
the unsullied happiness of the present, when e
ven that present, blissful as it may be, is re
linquished for the still brighter glorias of the
immagination ; or, when, if a cloud gathers on
the horizon, the young heart delights to bound
away and bask in the sunshine of an imagi
nary dream, rather than freeze in the chilling
atmosphere of a cold reality*. He was in the
spring time of life. Youth had shed its radi
ance over his countenance of manly beauty,
and he was accomplished in thoe graces which
secure admiration, while his fascinating man
ners, and engaging address, captivated the
hearts of Jl who knew him. He was a schol
ar and a distinguished one ; but he had been 100
eager in his pursuit after collegiate honors, antl
his health had been exhausted by his too ardu
ous labours. He had just recovered from a se
vere illness, brought on by intense study ; and
the slightly delicate hue, gave, perhaps, greater
interest to his appearance. The roses had with
ered from his cheek, and his eye beamed with
a milder lustre. His forehead was pale as mar
ble, and bis black glossy hair, curling over it,
seemed like the wing of a raven lying on a
wreath of snow.
Through the clergyman of ihe village, Hav
ward had been introduced to the father ol Al
ice Steel, and as he had repaired to the country
for the benefit of his health, he, at the invita
tion of Mr. Steel, became bis guest during his
stay. Alice and he were thus continually to
gether and the result was unavo.dable. They
were of an age, when the heart is most suscep
tible, and when, more than at any other period,
the mind is inclined to admire everything ami
able. She delighted him with her simplicity,
and he would hang over her, drinking in long
draughts of love from those large blue eyes of
hers so full of soul and tenderness.
Time rolled on ; and its flight was impercep
tible. Alice centered every thought, every af
fection on the being who seemed to her, per
fection. She had lived retired and secluded
from the world, and the appearance of Hay
ward, had opened a new page in the chapter
of her existence. He was rich in all those at
tractions calculated to make an impression upon
the heart ot a sensitive girl, and in her breast
he had awakened those indescribable feelings
of which, before, the very existence had been
unknown to her. Hayvvard's parents died
when he was yet young ; he was accordingly
placed under the care of some distant relations
of his father, who were appointed his guardians.
During his boyhood, he had been under the
greatest restraint, and when he escaped from
the zealous guardianship of home to the com
parative freedom of a college life, he devoted
himself too closely to study, to enjoy, in its full
extent, his additional liberty. His whole life
had been passed with books. They were his
only friends ; almost bis only companions, and
Alice Steel flashed across his sight like a being
from another world. He had become wearied
of hunting among dusty folios for the records of,
to him, uninteresting events, and of poring over
the lives of' mm, whose names had been per
petuated, but by their crimes. His heart had
long yearned to fix its affections upon some be
ing, who might reciprocate, and sympathize
with his feelings. He was indulging in such
dreams, when he first saw Alice. He had read
of beauty, of all commanding, maddening bau
iv : beauty which had caused man to forget
his God, and gods to forget their nature ; but
he esteemed it fabulous, and the poets' wild im
macinino'. Now he saw it : now it was present
to him, not indeed in the all commanding blaze
of majesty, bnt n all the winning charms of sim
plicity and truth. They loved and were happy,
and as they sat in the calm moonlight, w hen
their hearts were too full for utterance, they
thought that the dim and misty world before
them ; the bright blue sea of heaven above
them, with its thousand isles of stars, its light,
vaporing clouds, like spirits of the blessed look
ing down, in that still hour, on the land of sin
and sorrow they had left behind ;—they thought
then, that these, with all their glories, could
not possess a happiness greater than theirs.
Time wore awav, and (he period arrived
when it was necessary for Hayward to, again,
resume his studies. With a heavy hear', he
bade his betrothed adieu. A heavy heait too
he left behind him. It was in vain that Alice
tried to console herself with the iJea that he
would soon return ; or, that his letters would
soothe the pain of his absence. The thought,
"he was here and is gone," would ever be up
permost >n her mind. She could not banish it ;
she might read, but William had recited the
passage when last she had heard it ; she might
work, but his conversation had amused ber in
BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY MORNING, JUNE 15,1350.
her employment : she might walk, but he had
always been her companion ; she flew to hei
garden, but he had trimmed those flowers ; to
i her music, but he fad listened to, arid admired
her singing ; she would look upon the moon,
■ when last it shone, it beamed upon two happy
j hearts ; it might now shine upon them, but
they were separated.
William Hav ward had returned to town, but
hi< thoughts wandered away to the country ;
his heart was there also. Everything around
him s-emed strange and odious. He j in-d his
classes, but with these he was equally discon-,
tented. He was indifferent to what was pas
sing, and totally inattentive. His companions
rallied him on his fits of absence ; formerly iie
had stood firs? in everything— now hp was far
behind. He was uncomfortable at if, and de
termined 'o conquer it. He felt that if he
would indulge such feelings, he could not at
tend to his studies, and he, therefore, determi
ned to check thern. He mingled in society ;!
and with his companions, ran into every excess;
this he was more asily enabled to do, as his
fortune, which was large, was now under his
own control. While under the care of his;
guardians, fie had been sedulously debarred from
ali indulgence, ana the excesses into which he
now plunged were consequently, greater. The \
stream, instead of being exhausted, 'A as tiamm>d ■
in, and suffered to accumulate, until, Dreaking
through every channel by which it could find
egress, it ru.-hed along with maddening fu
ry-
Naturallv of a warm and ardent tempera
ment, endowed with high and generous quali
ties, which under right guidance, would have
impelled him forward to every thing noble, he
he fiad been worse than neglected, by the idle
trammels, imposed upon him by narrow sight
ed, though well meaning friends. He soon be
came not only reconciled to, but absolutely de
lighted with, his new course of life. He hur
ried from one scene of dissipation and thought
lessness to another, and if, for a moment, his
mind reverted to Alice Steel, he thought that
his passion for her might lie dormant for the
present, and if convenient, be easily revived.
Nor did he, for a moment, consider this unjust.
He was aware with what ease he had mastered
affeciton for her; and, he conceived that she
could "forget him with as slight a sacrifice.'
Thus by degrees, the ardor of his attachment
subsided ; less of love was associated with the
recollections of her name ; in a short time, it
was repeated with indifference, then entirely
torgotten. Her letters were answered with
cold and common place professions of re
gard ; in a short time, he was too much engaged
to answer ihem at ail; then, they were treated
with neglect. Before many weeks had elapsed
Alice Steel was entirely banished from his mem
ory and her claims were sujwrseded by those of
some one who had danced with him at a ball,
or smiled upon him, in a promenade. TA'ts it
ever is, with men of the Sanguine Temperament.
Their hearts are like a sieve, through which af
fection filters; their pledges of fidelity, are
written in sand, and the las! new face obliter
ates from their mindsevery former impression
a new face is lo them a refreshing sight. The
woman, who is tied fcr life to a husband with
this Temperament, had better be in Heaven !
But Alice Steel had nosucb incentives to for
getfulness, nor did she wish for them ; for, she
delighted to indulge in the pure feelings *vbicb
filled her breast.—She loved with (he purify
and wa-ini)mf youth, with a love which can be
felt but oncWn 1 lie. In his absence, her time
passed in worse than Greenland darkness ; but,
as in that deserted region, the bright moon al
most recompenses the inhabitant for the loss ol
the sun, so the recollections of the happy hours
she had spent with him, shed a moonlight of
happinessover her heart. His present conduct,
however, smote more severely, when compared
with ihe past. His correspondence was cold
and irregular,and soon, discontinued.
ignorant of the cause of an alteration so
rent. Her last letters were unanswered ; and,
pride, invariably the first ally a woman calls to
her assistance, prevented her attempting to as
certain the occasion of it, and, for a while, bore
her up. How oflen, does pride veil from the
world's eye the agonies of the heait, and when
you have trifled with that heart, and seek to
witness the evidences of pain, of suffering, from
the wound which you have inflicted, you are
met by a countenance as composed, as serene,
as if all w as peace within—not a muscle stirs,
or a fibre quivers, to send its telegraphic signal
to the cheek —not a sign of the volcano, slum
bering beneath. You go away without your
anticipated, your unnoly triumph, and say to
v oursell, or to your friend, perhaps, "what an
escape I have made : she is perfectly heartless."
Foor fool! you will never know the value of
the treasure you have thus, carelessly, thrown
from you!
Week passed afler week, and no letters arri
ving, made it evident that, she was forgotten.
While even a chance remained, her indignation
supported her; but, when that chance was re-
Freedom of Tironght and Opinion.
I moved, tfie affectation of pride or indifference,
I coujd not prevent her sinking. She faded and
pmed away.— Her cheeks lost their roseale hue,
and the lily alone was visible over her whole
countenance. The canker-worm was doing its
work. Change of air was prescribed for her
by those who.knew nothing of the cause of her
malady. She was removed fo a quiet watering
place, where she seemed to improve for a lime,
so that hopes were entertained of her recovery.
One,morning, as she was seated near Hygeia's
Spimg, she chanced to take up a newspaper
that was lying or. one of the benches—almost
irisU.aiiy, it tell from her hands. She started
up, her eye was wildly fixed ; it had rested up
on the record,of his marriage. It was but an
instant I hat she stood ; in the next she had left
the spot, and was hurrying to her chambers.
But nature was exhausted. She had been pre
pared for this last blow, but it had fallen too
heavily. Through the succeeding night, she
sat gazing upon vacancy, her lips apart, her
eyes immoveable, her brow contracted;—bad
it been deatii, tears would have relieved her;
but, as it was, her heart was broken. She had
been injured—slighted. She bad entrusted to
bis keeping, the brightest jewel she possessed,—
her love—and he had thrown it aside, as worth
less. Every ray of love and affection had cou
verged to one burning focus, which, being extin
guished, her heart was withered, dried up, ex
hausted. Toward morning, she became more
composed ; as her. friends approached, she rec
ognised them. At length a tear stood in her
large biueeye; it fell upon her mother's cheek
as she was kissing her poor child. A long deep
sigh followed, as she was turning her head up
on the pillow. It was the first; it was her
last ; the.last that her poor crushed heart ut
tered, as it delivered up its sympathies to the
soul which, upon that last sigh, accompanied by
a prayer of forgiveness for him, uttered too inau
dibiy lor earth, but loud enough to be heard in
heaven, flew up to its Creator. And thus she
perished. With her, love was not an idle
song ; it was everything ; it was her very be
ing ; and when crushed and trampled upon, that
being was annihilated.
ill iscciiancaits.
i AST RAK G E ROMANCfi.' _
A young lady, beautiful in person and at
tractive in manner, who resided in the imme
diate vicinity of Boston, was sought in marriage
some years ago by two men. One of these
was poor, and a mechanic ; the other was rich,
and not a mechanic. 'I he woh.an loved the
former ; the family of the woman liked the
latter. As is (he case in such affairs, the wom
an married to please her friends. Having thus
"s )ki herself," she ought to have been misera
ble, but she was not. Her husband's unaffected
love subdued her heart, and his gold smoothed
the rough places in the human path. Fortune
| feeling that this couple were too happy, frown
ed, and the man's riches look wings and used '
! them in flight. Thereupon the husband wound |
! up his business, put bis wife and children, of
whom there were two, at a comfortable boar-i
ding-house, and then departed lor California in
search of money. Some letters and some re
mittances arrived from him at first, then noth
ing came, and there was a blank of several
vears. The wife thought herselt decprted.— .
j The family, whose good opinion of the husband j
! had not lately been so often published as for-;
inet!y, told her that it was clearly a case for a
divorce. When she had become well accus
tomed to the sound ofthis unpleasant woiri, the
disconsolate wife was thrown into (he society
of the mechanic lover, now prosperous, ar.d
still unmarried. The memory ol her early,
-ea! love came upon her, and she believed j
u ith a secret joy that he had remained single j
for her sake. This thought nourished her af-j
fection, and at last she obtained a divorce from j
her husband who had Deserted her, and remain
ed absent beyond the time allowed by the stat
ute. This accomplished, there was no barrier
between her and" the mechanic of her youth.—
She informed him that she was his forever,
when he should choose to claim her hand. Her
feelings cannot have been pleasant lo Darn
that since his rejection by her and her marriage
to another, the nnromantic hewer of wood had
drowned his passion f)r her in the waves of
time, ami that at the time of her handsome of- ;
fer he no longpi palpitated for her. In fact
Barkis was not Willin'. As if all this were not
embarrassing enough, who should turn up but
the husband, who made his appearance in the
form of a letter, announcing that he had accu
mulated a dazzling pile of wealth, ami that she
was to meet him in New York.
The letter also chid her for her neglect in not
writing to him for years, and it was clear that
h" had sent assurances ol love and also material :
aid at intervals duringhisabser.ee ; where these j
had gone, no one knows. Here, then, was;
trouble. No husband, no lover. The one she
had divorced ; the other had refused her. Ta- !
kingcounsel with herself, she packed her trunk, i
seeing that her wardrobe was unexceptionable, :
and came to the metropolis. She met the com- j
ing man on his arrival, and told him the whole ;
story as correctly as she, naturally prejudiced
in favor of the defendant, could tell it. The
husband scowled, growled, looked at the char
ming face and the becoming toilette, remem
membered California and its loneliness, and
took her to his heart. A clergymen was sum
moned, a marriage was performed, and a new
volume in their life's history was opened.—
Tribune.
, ! [From the Democratic Standard.]
OLD ABE LI!V'IOL\.
i
! (.4ir —Old Dan Tucker.)
BY "THAT FFLLSR."
■ REASONS WHY "OLD ABE WAS NOMINATED.
| _
!lil —lie is Six Feet Four.
Wbo was it 'tother day, and who was he of yore,
i That stood in his stocK.ing-I'eet six feet four,
And wanfd to be King because he was tall ?
[ It was Old Abe Lincoln, and Old King Saul :
Clear him out, this Old Abe Lincoln,
What in the world did the delegates thinx on.
i . ..
2d—He is Brave when out of Danger.
Old Abe to escape tar and feathers, and jails.
Went into Ohio to [earn to split rails ;
But being out ol danger, became very ptucsv, -
And threw hacK pebble stones into KeutttcxY.
j Clear him out, this Old Abe Lincoln,
ft hat iu the world ciu tue delegate* think on.
2d—He Can Split Resit,.
I '
! Old Abe was a dweller on the Ohio's bar) KS,
And be saw rails split by k.s nr.Ati John Sharks ; !
Says he, "John, lend me the mAu' AQ<! the cuniou, j
I'm going to try to sp: : up 'he Union.
Clear him out, this Old Abe Lincoln,
Whit in tne world did The delegates think on. j
i 4ih—Tlt Loves his Country—over the Left.
When his countrymen battling in Mexico,
Were in need ot supplies, Oid Abe said. "No
His vote WAS tor letting thern perish out there,
For the bleeding soldiers, hes*id he didn't care.
Clear him out, this old Abe Lincoln,
What in the world did the delegates thins on.
! "ARTEMIS WARD' TELLS HOW OLD
ABE RECEIVED THE NEWS.
The Plaindealer , of Monday, says there are
several reports as to how "Honest Old Abe"
received the oews of his r.omihali'-n, none of
which are correct. We give the correct re
port. Tile Official Committee arrived in
j Springfield at dewy eve and went to Honest
. Old Abe's House. Honest Old Abe v.as not
in. Mrs. Honest Old Abe said Honest Old
| Abe was out in the woods splitting rails. So
| the Official Committee went out into the woods,
where, sure enough, they found Honest Old
Abe splitting rails his two boy*. It
; was a grand, magaificient spectacle. There
stood Honest Old Abe in his shirt-sleeves, a
1 pair of leather home-made suspenders holding j
j up a pair of home-made pantaloons, thp seat of |
which was neativ patched with substantial .
; cloth of a. different color. "Mr. Lincoln, Sir,
i.you've beer, nominated, Sir, for the highest
I office. Sir —.""Oh don't bother mp," said
Honest Old Abe, "I took a stent this mornin'
to split three million of rails before night, and I
i don't want to be pestered with no stuff about
r,o Convention till I get my stent done. I've
only got two hundred thousand rails to split
; before sundown. . I kin do it if you'll l°t me
I alone." And the great man went right away
to splitting rails, paving no attention to the
Committee whatever. The Committee were
lost in admiration for a few moments, when
thev recovered, and asked one of Honest Old
Aoe's boys whose boy he was ? ' I'm my
parents' boy," shouted the urchin, which burst
' of wit so convulsed ihe Committee that they
' came very near "gin'in eout" completely. In !
a few moments. Honest Old Abe finished his j
task and received the news with perfect self
possession. He then asked them up to the j
house, where he received them [cordially. He i
' sni ' be split three million of rails every day, I
alii he was in very poor health. Mr. I
Lint , i a jovial man, and has a keen - sense j
of the It;, i. us. During the evening he as- {
ked Mr. E'-u.'s of New York "why Chicago;
was like a hen crossing the street?" Mr. E. j
gave it up. "Because," said Mr. Lin- ; '■
coin, "Old Grimes is dead that good old man !" !
This exceedingly humorous thing created the j
most uproarious laughter. And as an evidence j
that he is a statesman as well as a wag it may j
be stated that during the evening he profound- j i
ly observed that "gotfc-rnmenls were governed j
too much." and that "an honest man was the'
noblest work of Gcd."
A VALUABLE LOG. —Recently ihe adminis
trator of one Eiisha Harris, deceased, late a
resident ot Luzerne county, Pa,, offered his
effects at public sale, among them an uncouth
block of wood, supposed to be a part ola cheese
press, and which was purchased for J5 cents,
by one David M. Hatmacher. On the morn
ing succeeding the safe, the purchaser in a
spirit of enquiry "characteristic of the age we
live jo,*' split the biock open, when he discov
ered a queer secret door, opened by the presure
of a long rod, and containing bonds, notes and
other matters, besides about $2,000 in silver
coin. To test the right of ownership in the
the treasure, an amicable suit for it 3 recovery
was instituted in the Common Pleas of Lu
zerne county, 'resulting in a verdict for the
executors for SI,OOO.
C~F*"The "Democracy" sneer at ABRAHAM
LINCOLN as a "rail splitter."— Erie Gazette.
No thev don't 1 They only sneer at a set of
jackasses whogo round in the hot sun with rails
on their backs, thinking (hey thereby glorify a
man wbo once followed the reputable and hon
est business of splitting raiis. It is not the man
who split the rails, but, the fools who have sud
denly become rail worshippers, that they sneer
at.
MR. What-you-call-him, of our place, says
his wife told him that she had been informed
thai Mr. Stick-in-the-mud's wife's cousin had
heard that Mrs. Tattle guessed shesawSombo
dy go in Doubton's house when nobody could
have been there but Mrs. Doub'.on f We hard- j
ly credit the report, bat. feel it our duty to
circulate it. i
H fIOI.E I* I.TIBER, 590G.
J ADVANTAGES OF DRILLING GRAIN
i GRAIN DRILL?, /or over t-n years ha*'? b??n
| extensively used in various States of our Union,
j (as well a- in foreign countries, )and wifh very
j satisfactory results. In many sections of our
! country tiie mode of drilling grain lias entirely.
; superseded the old and ordinary way of sowing
' broad-cast, and covering it with a plow or har
, row, lor three practical reasons: That time and J
ilaborare economized; that seed is saved, and jl a
j th3t a much iarger yield is secured.
First —Thp saving of six or eight days' laborjjßK
} is not the great advantage in the economy
time and labor gained wilb a drill. It is the
saving of timp, when the weather is favorable,
and the ground is in the right orderjfor feeding,
the accomplishment of a large amount of work,
v* hen fin? is most precious. When the farmer
drills bis grain, the work is finished as far as
the drill goes. Not so when IIP scatters his seed
broad-cart : a ridden s'orm, or some other con
ting ncy my arrest bis labors, when only a
part eft he seed ha? been plowed cr barfowed
j in, and h a imy be obliged to sow it over again
! to his di- advantage, not only in seed and labor
j hit. but runs the risk of losing his crop,
i St cond —From one to two pecks of seed to
the acre is saved bv the use cf the drill, as ai(
j the seed put into th® Box, is evenly deposited
! in the ground ; nonetis blown away, none is
left on top of the ground for the fo-wJs to pick
up, or the insect to feed upon, and any precise
quantity desired, can be put on the acre, with
more perfect regularity than can possibly be
done by hand.
Thir l —The reasons why drilled wheat yields
more to the acre are as follows: the tooth, (or
shovel.) makes a furrow, at the bottom of which
the seed is covered, the earth thrown out on ei
ther side, forming a ridge of earth h-tween the
rows of grain, which, by the action ol the rain
and thawing, the ridge moulders down, carry
ing the belter properties of the soil to the roots
of the grain, nourishing and preventing them
from being "thrown cut," and "winter killed,"
as is more or less the case with br.ad-cast sow
ing. As every observer knows, grain sown
broad-cast and plowed or harrowed in, some
grains are covered too deep , others not covered
at all. and a large portion of the seed being
slightly covered, produces a weakly blade,
which is thcown out by the frost in winter, of
if it barely escapes, grows a slender stalk, liaMfUl
to mildew, and poorly filled. IUI
The growth of drilled wheat being uniform*
from the fact ol its regular distribution at
i lar and proper depth, its ripening is simultane?
bus, and is therefore not likely to be damaged
bv rust or weevil, in the same degree that bMpf- 4
; cast wheat generally is, because being planted ■ .
at different depths, some h evds may be in blos
som, while in others, the grain is hardening,
thus giving the insect a fair opportunity to
make sad havoc. Wheat drilled in rows is fa
vorablp to light and air, elements which are
well known to be required foft *he healthful
growth and proper ripening ol every head, and
may be gathered with greater security than
broad-cast, in which there may be some beads
too ripe, while others are barely 6t to harvest.
Drilled wheat doe 9 much better ip a drj sea
son than broad-cast, being depositejf alt; a uni
form and proper depthr the root is Nhhurished
and protected, grows vigorously and produces
strong stalks, which bear large and well filled
heads.
Eut Drills are not only economical for win
ter grain, hut have proved to be advantageous
I for planting OATS and BARLEY, as a great a
; mount of seed and labor is saved, and the sialics
grow mo r e strong and healthy, and are not so
liable to be ' eaten down by rain and storm. It
-has been well established, that more oats can
be raised from less seed by drilling, than by
broad-casting. •
There is no implement used on the farm with
so much profit to the farmer, as a good Grain
DriH. The Threshing Machine is an improve
ment over the flail in point of labor, but does
not take any more grain from the straw. Tbe
Mowing Machine is an improvement over the
scythe in labor saving, but as mnch grass can
be cut frorr. the same ground with (he scythe-
But the Drill not only saves labor but increases
the yield, and saves a great amount of seed,
which is mooey.
Ojp"Wonderful fact! The number of fet
ters in the names of the Republican candidates
for President and Vice President, is tbe same in
each. We have this wonderful fact from a Re
publican paper of undoubted veracity. Won
ders will never cease!
is said to bp an old ladv down on
Long Island so very fat, that the neighbors use
her shadow for griddle greasing. To keep her
from slipping out of bed, her husband rolls
her in ashes. Long Island is a great place.
JONAH wrote to his. father after the whale
first swallowed him, stating that be thought he
bad lounda good opening lor a young man go
ing into the oil business, but afterwards wrote
homp for money, stating that he'had been suck
ed in.
A YOUNG LADY in towp was cured of a pal
pitation ot the heart, the other evening, by a
young gentleman in the simplest an! most nat
ural way imaginable. He merely held one 3j
of her hands in his, put his arm around ber D
waist, and whispered something in ber left
ear.
THERE is a man down East who has lived so
long on corn bread that his hair has turned to
silk™ like that which grows on the grain, and
his toes are so full of corns that he expects'
to see them covered with husks the next jrbtr.
jj ait
A high rent—a hole in the crowa ofofiMir
bad hat. . tjjjgij
VOL 3. NO. 46.