BY DAYID OVER. $ o t 1 r q. THTYOICE THAT WIN'S ITS WAT. If words could satisfy the hem, The hearth might Sod less care; But words, like summer birefe. depait, And leave twit empty air. A little said, and truly said, Can deeper joy impo-t Thau hosts of words who reach the head But never touch the heart. j A voice that wins its snnay way A lonely home to cheer. Hath oft, the fewest words to sty, But, O, those few, bow dear! YIELD NOT TO DARK DESPAIR. Hast thou one heart that loves thee. In this dirk worid fill care, 9 nose gentle smile approves thee ? Yield not to dark despa'rl C.ie hand whose loving fingers Are pressed tn thine alone 7 One fond, confiding bosom , TVhoae thoughts are all thine o*a J One feuthfol voice to garde thee, And bless thee in distress ? One 1 reast, when thou au weary, Whereon thy head to rest f Till de:th thy form has ahroadr 1. And cold that hear, so wai.n, Till death the eaitb has clouded. Heed not the parsing storm. Thou lust one tie to bind thee. An I little life bads rare — Let k*e, sweet love, entwine In this dark world of care ! THE LITTLE ONE. VITT. XIX 13. 15. .and is uuo what I stu told, Trat there ere iamba wirier* the tu'ul Of God's beloved Sow,, — Th .t Jesms Christ with tcader care, Will in his aims most gently bear The helpless "Httle one V Oytsf I've hesr-1 my mother sy, He never sent a child away, Th it scirce could walk or run ; For when the parent's love besought, That te wo eld touch the child she brought, He blessed the "little one." And I, a littte stravTr lamb, May come to Jesus as I am. Though guodne:s I have none ; May now l e folded to his breat, As brds with ; n the parent's nest, And be his ■•'ittle one." And he can io 1* this for me, Becaa*e in sorrow on the tre : He once for sinners hung : And having washed their in* away He now rejoices, day by day. To cleanse the "little one." Others there are who love me too ; But who with all ther love can do W bat Jesus Christ haa done Then if he teaches rue to pray, IU surely go to b'm and say, Lord Wess thy '-little one." Thus by flis graci-us Shepherd fe.l, And by his mtrcy gently led, Where bviug waters run, My greauit pleasure a.ll be this, That I'm a little loaib ot His, VY bo loves the "little one." NOT DEEP ENOUGH FOR PRAYING. We heard, a night or two sinee, a talerable good story of a coupie of raft-men. Ttse event occurred during the late big blow on the Mississippi, t which time so many rfts were saamped, and so many steamboats lost their sky-tigging* A vgt't was Just etßfrgipff from lake Pep:u ss the >quli came, io an instoct the rail pitching aud writhing as if suddenly drop ped into Charybd's, while the wavea broke over with tremendous uproar, and expecting ii.stant destruetioß, the raftamoa dropped on bis knees and comtßCßced praying with a spirit equal to the emergeccy. Happeaing te opcu bis eyes an wutoat, he observed far* companion, not engaged ;d prayer, bat pushing a pole iato the water at the idea*f the r;t. What's that yer doiu', Mike* said be; get down on yer knees, now, tor there isn't a minute botweea us and Purgatory? Be aU-y, Pa, wd the other, as he cooily continued to puuch tne water wU'j bis pole.' he aisy, now! what's the use of praying when a feller en teteb bottom with a pole 1 Mike is a pretty good specimen of a l ar 8 e class of Chrisitans, who prefer to omit prayer *s long sa they can teuu bottom. ia a man iu Greco bosh—aays the *ruy News—who believes in rota*too of crops. Or.e year he raises nothing; the next year .weed*. X?"A fortune won in a day is lost in a day*, a fortune won slowly, and slowly compacted, seems to acquire from the band that won it a pioperty of endurance. XF°"What are the years but perishable icavea blown, one by one, from the ever open ing roae of Time, by tbe siuie breath that first i:Teted them A Weekly Paper, Devoted to Literature, Politics, the Arts, Sciences, A-rriciilture, See., See— Terms: One Dollar and Fifty Cents in Advance. ARTEMU3 WARD AMONG SHAKERS. One of our eotemporaries has a witty cor respondent who purports to bo a traveling showman, and of course meets with virions experience. In bis last letter he gives some of hi* experienee among the Shakers, in whose "set. lenient," he had to stop over night, par taking of their hospitality: I sot down to the IsMe, and the female in the meal bag poured out some tea. She sed nothin, and for five mtirt* the only live thing in that room was a old wooden clock which tict in a subdood and bashfti! manner in the corner. This deathly stillness made me un easy, and 1 determined to talk to the female or bust. So sex I, ' marriage is agin your rul#a, I bteeve, omro? "Yay." '•The sexes liv strictly apart, i 'spect?" "Yay." "It** kinder singler," sex 1, puttin on my most sweetest look and speakin in a whinnin voice, "tbit so fair a made as tbow never got hitched to sum likely teller/' [N. B.—She was upward of forty, and hetneiy as a stump fence, bat 1 thawt I'd tiekil her.] "I don't like men," she ed, very short. "Wall, I dunno." sex I, "tbey'er a rayther important part of 'he populashnn. 1 don't scarcely see how we could git along without 'em " "Us poor wiuimiu' folks would git along a great deal better if there was no men!" You'll excuse me. warm, tut I don't think that air would w ric. It wouldn't be rejiler. I'm fraid of she said. That's i-noeoessary, inarm. Van ain't in no danger. Don't t'rer yourself on that pint. Here we're shut out of the sinful worid.— Here al! is peas. Here we are brothers and sisters. We don't marry, soil eoa?ekcat!-y we have no ynog Shskercss ess, as pretty atiu slick lookin' gals as 1 evtr met. it is troo tufj was dn-ssed in meal bigs like the old one I'd met previsty, and their shiny silky bar hid (t'. m sight by long white cps, such as i spose female gots wear, but their eyes spars led like uixinds, their cheeks wa< like rose-, and they << charmio Etff to ■aka a bmd thru w stuns a*. Lis graudmother, if they axed hiai to. 1 bey cooweest elsariu away the dishes, eas'iu shy glances at tne all the time. I gut excited. 1 forgot Betsy Jane ia my rapter an! ez I, toy pretty dears, how are you? We are well, they soluatiy sed. W jr's the o'd man? sed I, ia % kiai of soft ;ce. 0 whom dest thou speak—brother Uriah? i mean the gay and festive euss wbo ealls MS man of SID. Sboulda't wonder if his aaoie w*s Uriah. He has retired. Waif, my pr< try dears soz I, lets have sum fun. Let's play pass in the corner. What say you? Are yoa a Shaker, sir? they axed. Wall, my pretty dears. I haven't arrayed my prond form in a long wtskit yif, but if th;y na all like ycu perhaps I'd jine 'cm.— As it is, I'm a Shaker prctemporary. They was fall or fun, i seed that at fust, ooiy they was a little skeerv- I tawt 'em pu-p in the corner and sioh like plase, and we had a nice tiaie, keepin quiet of course so the old man shouldn't hear. When we broke up, sez I, my pretty dears, ear 1 go, you have no objections, Lave yoa, t> a jnaersent kiss at pat tin? YaJ, tLey sed, and I jay'd. A Frozen Sbip. —A whaling vessel, which sailed from LondoD in the year 1840, found In the Polar sea a ship embedded in the ice, with sails furled, aad no sigus of life on board.— The captain an-1 eome-of tbe crew descending iuto tbe cabin, found ended upon tbe floor u large Newfoundland dog, apparently asleep, but when they touehsd it they found the ani mal was dead, and frozen as hard as stone. — ia the cabin was a young lady seated at tbe table, her eyes open as if gazing at the intru ders in that desolate place. She was a corpse' and bad been frozen iu an apparently resigned and religious attitude. Beside her was a man, wbo 't appeared was the comman der of the brig, and brother to the lady, tie was sitting at the table, dead, anJ before him was a sheet of paper, on which was written, "oar cook has endeavored to strike a light since yesterday morning, but ia vain; all is cow ever.** In another part of the cabin stood tLo cook, with the flint and tinder in haud, fro zen. in the vain endeavor to strike the fire that eoutd alone save them. Tbe terrors of the seamen li the captain front the spet, who took wtrh him the log book as tbe sole metntc [to ot the ill fated ship. It appeared tbsfc she | also was from Loudon, and had bspu Ittzeo ia 'that place over fourteen years- BEDFORD. PA., FRIDAY. APRIL 12, 1861. I Sad Picfurt?. The foilowiog is an extract from the Valedio* tory address of Prof. Mitchell to the recently graduating cla& at Jefferson College, Phils. delpkia. ; Go with me, ia imagination, id it* grave yard of a eeantry poor bouse, in a siaier ?■©* |m m wealth, and the spot allotted to the mor ! ta! remains of a victim of inebriation once a : star in the professional galaxy of his native | State, will meet your eye. The rank weed and the rugged brier have well nigh oblitera-" : ted the hillock from the gisa of men, and these are the oaly monuments that mark the spot.— \ \\ bo sleeps there ? Alas 1 1 tremble at the reminiscences that cluster around the shapeless | i heap of earth. Often, during uey residence in j | the West, I bad beam the glittering prospects j that environed the pathway of the young pro- I j fessor. His eloqueuce and resetting posers j i won for itiut golden opinions. In the walks j of professional iise, too, he met on every sid" ( the approving smile and the 9aiaUtton-f j friends who esteemed hitn a ministering angel j 10 the chamber of sickness, and who felt that! : his skill had saved their loved cues from the | grasp of death. The gourd seemed to be of vigorous grow tit, and for a tune none had aj misgiving in respect of the future. But a! poisonous worm was at the root; and it tufu- | sed desolation iuto every fibre of the plant.— This man bad failed ia every outset of life . he began wrong. Too soon, alus, was the geu ■ tee! glass of wtc exchanged for the fiercer stimul >U9 of the brandy goblet. The victim was tottering on a feurtui declivity, uncon scious of the abyss that might sooa engulf him j forever. The stone, rolling from the hill-top, couid Out be checked iu its rush to ruin uy a force less potent tban Aiuiighuness. Toe warning of dearest friends were unbended.— Oasr, beyond retrieve, was the die, and the ter rible issue net far in the dLta&ee. The errat ic professor lost his place in the school of med t icine, because of indiscretion* perpetrated un der the sway of the tyrant whose claims led hitu io durance vile. The patrons who once idolized him as their family visitant its the sik , chamber, abiU'ioacd him as a hopeless outcast, a&J the aiurkej tokens of poverty speedily ? fajlou.d fceir death gripe ua sui sad body.— 1 Di,d ha reform at the eLveuth hour ' On the contrary, he felt that he was a doomed *ot sod very toon ail thai had once been .uXtiiuodd hod full of promise in intellect, went oat in utter , dsrkue-c. He gave up the ghost am. ag sia t dreg spirits, and where is he J Did any of hit. ' early psCfh&S 'eotiipftttaiis take the Wtitß clay and honor it With a spot in Some lovely peiuctry 1 Not at ail. Unwept and al ne he found tiding-place in a dishonored grave.— And in a weekly sheet the nnrianeboly record . ins doom ran thu>: •*Di< d oa the day of in the year 18—Dr. , weL auown a few year* ago, as the el-quent professor of in Medical College. lie was rained by intemperence, and his remains repose in a corner of a gr>vtyard of the county poor bouse. ! A WORD FOR WIDOWS. Travelers tell us that America is the eouu tiy where more young and pretty widows are seen than in any oth?r—#wing to intense over work by w'aich our men k:Il themselves, aud die young. As the widows are so large a class, let us copy for tbem a passage from the book of "Gaugooly," giving an account of what wid owhood is in Bengal: "The very day a girl becomes a widow, her e lorcd clothes, silver and golden ornaments, are ail taken off, and a mark of red powder which every married woman wears on tbe fore bead, is rubbed out. Henceforth she is to, dtees ia white, and wear no ornament of any kind whatever during her lifetime. Her daily meals are reduced to one, aud th t i* prepared in the simplest way possible. She is strictly prohibited the use of any sort of animal food. This restriction has been carrried to such an extreme, that, if a scale of fish be found iu the pLte of a widow, she must immediately stop eating and go without food the same day. Each widow is required to cook her own food, and abstain entirely from food and drink two day*, aka-thu&ly, iu every month. There are j other fasting days for this class of wretched , women, but tbe young oues feel satisfied with observing the two fixed ones. Who ean wit- j neas the sufferings, the sighs of the Bengalee widow of thirteen or fourreeu years, on tbe fast days, without pity 1 In the warm days of April, when tbe burning sun dries op tbe ponds of their water, scorches the leaves of the trees, these pour victims to tbe rigidness of superstition, faint and pant in Longer and thirst. If tbey are dying ou tbe aka4huly day, a little water will be put to the lips, merely to wet them. In order to escape these continual suffering?, it has been the practice with many widows to bum themselves with the corpse of the husband, and though the subtle Bramins inculcated various rewards for the burning of tbe Shutiee, yet I cannot see anything mote weighty than the patting an end at once to all their trouble?, evea at tbe gaiifc of suicide.— They have no hope of ever cheering their widowhood in tbe world." 25"The following is a copy of an advertise ment which appeared ia a oonntry paper: Made their escape, a husband's affections. They disappeared immediately on seeing his wife with hands and face unwashed at break fast. Don't believe any woman to be an n --■>el. If you feel any symptoms of that disease, take a dose of sage tea and go to bed it is as tnnch a malady as the small-pox, and it is your business to get over it as soon as pon tile. I TAKING DOWN A LAWYER. j A story is told of a very eminent Dwysr io ; New York receiving a severe reprimand from • a witness on the stand whom he was trying to |br wheat. It was an important issue, and in t order to save his cause from defeat, it was ne cessary that Mr. A. should impeach the wit- Qf;*' The following dialogue ensued: ; Lawyer —How old are you? Witness—Seventytwo yeats. Lawyer—Your memory, #f coarse is cot ' briliiiut-and vivid as it wa twenty years ago, j is it? Witness—l don't know but it is. Lawyer —State some circumstance wbieh oc curred, ay twelve years ago, and we shall be : abla to see how well you can remember. Witness—l appeal to your Honor if lam to ho interrogated in tb manner; it is inso lent. Judge—Yes, sir; state it. Witness—Well, s:r £ if you compel tne to Jo >t, I will. About twelve years ago you stndied in Judge B.'s uffi.e, did yon not my frreftd' Lawyer--Yes V* itaess—well, sir, I remember your father coming into tny office and saying to toe, "Mr. D , my son is to be examined to morrow, and 1 wHK yoa would lend me fifteen dollars to I buy him a suit of clothes." -i remember, also, sir, tfeat from that day to this be has never paid me that sum. That, sir, 1 remember as though it bad been but yesterday. I - >yer (considerably abashed) —That will do,s-r. Witness-—I presume it will. SIONATCBtE OF THE v.'bo&>-— The mark : whieh persona who are un*bl to wsite are re i quin?4 to make instead of their signature, is hi fottu of a aaJ thi. practice, having befT. formerty followed by kings aud nobles, is coistantlo referred to as an instance of the depbjvablo of ancient times. This signature t not, however, invariable proof uf such ignorance ; aucieutly the use ot this mark was not eoifined to illiterate persona; for among the Saxoas the mark or ero-a, as sa t --testati.iß of tfce good fail h ot ths per&jo siga bg, "as rcqwed to be attached to the signa tus.es of those who ccuU write, aa well as ;o sue* in the JiLcc of the signature of those who tould not write. 1- ihos- ikhS, U a no*a could write, or real, bts kaow'tdge was ooaaidered proof tt.t*am&ive. tk*t be was. .4wdPL., The word citricmt OF clerk was synonymous with pen-oi -.n, and the laity, or people who were not clerks, did not feel any urgent necessity of the use ot loiters. The ancient u*e of the cross was, therefore, universal, uLke by rLose ha couid and by those who could not wri'e it; it was, indeed, the symbol uf an oath from its holy associations, and generally the m.rk On this- account. 3lr. Charles Kuight, in his Botes to the Pictorial Shakesf eart, explains the expression of "God save toe mark," as a ; forai of * jaculaiiou approaching to the charac ter of ea oath- This phrase occurs three or more tunes in tto plays of Shakesp"are, but hitherto it has been left by the : in its origicnal obscurity. I'BEDICTIOJtS FOE TUE YEAS 1861.- The year of 1861 will be a very eventful one to ev ery maiden who gets married. Throughout tbe whole course of the yeir, whenever the moon wanes the nights grow dirk. If dandies we*r their beards there will be ies work for the barbers. He who wears his mustache will have something to snecxe at. Whoever is in love th-i year will thiuk his mistress an angel. W buever gets married wili find out whether it is true. He that looses his hair this year will grow bald. Lie that looses his wife wiil become a wido wer. If a young lady should happen to blush she will look red in the face. It she dreams of a young man three nights in succession, it wiL he a sign of something. If she dream of bim four times or have the toothache, it is ten to one that she is a long time m get ,; ng either of them out of her head. If any one jumps over board without know ing how to swim, it it two to oce that he get* drowned. If any una lends an umbrella, it ;s ten to one be i* obliged to go home in the rain tor his pains.' Whoever runs in debt this year will be dun ned. Many an old sinner will resolve to torn over a new leaf this year, but the new leaf will turn oat bl*nk. It is probable that if there is no business doing, p opie will complain of bard times, but it is certain that those who hang themselves will escape starvation. He that bites off his nose, ot turns politician, will act like a fool, and this is the most ceruiu of all. :IF"*Billy, how did you lose your finger? Easy enough, said Billy. I suppose you did; but how 1 I guess you'd a lost yourn, if it had been, where mine was. That don't answer my question. Well, if you must know, said Billy, I had to cut it off or steal the tip. A Down Easter advertiser for a wife in the following manner : "Any girl what's got a cow, a good feather bed aud oxen, five hundred in hard putur, and one that's had Ae mease Is, and understands tending children, can have a customer for life by writing a billj dux, addressed Z R—— and stick it on uncle Ebenezer's barn hind side 1 jinin the hog pen. | it €hest !■ the Swallow'? Nest. j Near the town of Heidelberg, iu Germany, is aa s ohl ruin called the '-SwsHow'g Nest," which many i years ago'waa the resort of. a band of lawless free | hooters. Some travelers who recently passed a few i days in the vicinity of the "Swallow's Nest," came i across an old man whose long, grisly locks, stray ing over his shoulders, his flowing beard, his hag gard face and decrepid form, made him seem like a lorgotten representative of the old race of men, that knew the robber knights in the height and; ; glory of their power ; and when be spoke, his voice sounded like a call from the kingdom of the dead, j it was .o feeble, so hollow, and so vacant ot all \ life. Having heard of bis wonderful familiarity with the ghostly realms, they questioned him about j his experience, and gradually drew him into an j animated conversation. Sitting dowu on a moasy ; stone, and leaning bis gray chin on his strfl", he j tofci story after Story of ghosU and strange ap- I pariuoas which had appeared to birn at night in ' those melancholy blunts. And he told them all in ] such si unaffected, serious kinner, that they ! couldn't help believiog them as firmly as he did. . One of these stones was a very rvn:rkable one, , and was to the following effect : About five hundred years a to, the daring free-1 boo r wh tlien made Swa low's Nest the terror rff! all good and peace- oring citizens, rode one day, j at the head of a brv of armed retainers, into the very couti of the Heidelberg castfe, and abducted a beautiful yon * : uiy, a princess, tilliag t.er faith- \ ful maid and wounding several of ber attendants, j The pursuit was hot; but the freebooter regained ; Hs castle in sa 'ety, taking with him his noble cap ; live, it was an act as foolish as it was audacious ; j for it rou.ed apiinst the pe*petrator the wrath of! his soverf' m, amd brought him under the ban of ' •_o empire. The robbing of Jews and common traders we* a venial crime ; the kidnapping of a pr ncess was an unpsntomible offense against the priv.Wges of toyal blood. The freebooter's castle was besieged by a*i over whelming for •. For a while be defied his ene mies; bat oce morning a white fiig was flying from the high tower, the gate was thrown open, the draw bridge lower. J, and the {besiegers marched in—to find the freebooter gone. Heaven only knew where ! He bad disappeared some time ia the night, with out the knowledge ot any of his men. It was cur rently reported that he bad been carried off by the Evil One, with whom, in the popular belief, ho hod ruade a very hard bargain. But the princess 7 She, too, hd disappeared ; and, as she was never afterward seen, it became the popular superstition that she had been rescued from her en-my by the Queen of Heaven herself Thus matters rested for more than five centuries. . One summer nigh', this old man, sleeping, as nsual, j in a sheltered et rner of the castle yard, had a ' vision of a beautiful tidy, whose face bore traces of suffering and trouble. Bhe walked en the air, as il j it were a solid floor. Proceeding to the narrow i trchway that ouce l-d to the dnageons, she entered f the dark passage, which immediately became il hitninated, as-lf !!gi:ted by a torch! As the old I man knew tfce passage was entirety blocked np to j ordinary personages, he felt prompted to follow.— , She led the way to a Urge apartment, am! stopped ; ower spot twtess aidfe* of the floor, where ah* • stood, appearing to we- p. Looking np at length, j she saw the oM man. who hd followed a few steps 1 behind. Fixing =>. Taoltßcholy gare on hhu, as if . to gain his attention, she pointed to the floor t her • feet, and tfcew retraced her stei*s, walking, as be fore, on the air. At the archway she twddeuly disappears*!. Next morning the old man found everything as usual about the cavern : even the passage, through which he had walked the night before, ws entirely blocked up. But the succeeding night the soma adventure was repeated ; and the third aight it oc curred again, with the addition that the i >dy gave . him a costly ring ill parting. Strangely enough, > the first thing that attracted his attention in the morning was a bright ring lying among the loose t fragments of stone at his side. He told his story in the village, where, at first, no oce thought ot attaching the least i nportance to it; but he insisted so strongly that there must be something In it worth searching out, that at last a few of the most substantial villagers obtained permission :o e'ear out the passage. It was a labor ot many days. At length, however, it was crowned with success; a large apartment was reached, wb'ch the old man immediately recegcized ! aa tfce place wh*re the appariaen had stopped.— j They .cr ped away the mould and dost from the store floor, but couid discover no signs of a trap, j After an hour's search they gave up iu despair, rating their own folly in having allowed themselves to be made the dupes of a bali-witted old man. '• We might have known, as usual, before be ginning," exclaimed one of them, striking the stone flier with his spade, to give emphasis to his words. To the astonishment of all, the smitten floor opened, and disclosed a narrow staircase, leading, apparently to subterr-aean dangeons. After a pardonable hesitation ot a few minutes, one of the villagers descended, lamp in hand, to explore the underground place, and the rest followed. The staircs e proved to be short. At the foot lay two skeletons! Between the ribs of the larger one a rusty dagger was sticking! The superstitious peasants took a single look, rushed up the steps, and I the daylight with the wings which terror iJways adds to the clumsy heels of untutored humanity. But a few days afterwards the castle was again visited by a more courageous (because larger) com pany. The secret chamber was indeed found, but the two ske'eteus had ci ambled to dust. There lay the dinger, and near it were found several r.ngs, a bracelet and a silver c~oss. The mystery was, if po aiUe greater now than before. Were the bone those of the Princess and the Baron i But how came he there 7 The dagger suggests one solution. He probably found her unconquerable, and shut her op in that subter ranean prison. Going down one aight to see whether she was tamed or net, be threatened her with tie dagger, she seized it, and iu a frenzy stabbed him to the heart. Then, unable to open the trap-door, she perished of hunger. But why was net the existence of this chamber betrayed by the Baron's retainers 7 In one corner of it was found an iron chest, containing a few old Coins, rings, bracelets, chains, necklaces and other costly articles. This renders it probable that the chamber was the Baron's private treasury, and that its ex istence was known only to himself. The truth will probably never be known. [IFThe Mountain Demociat b responsible for the following: A disappointed candidate called for so l eje opener' in the Otleans Hotel, Sacramento.— The barkeeper speedily completed a cocktail, aud was topping it off with abaynth. What's that? what's that demanded the man ootside of the counter. It's absynth, sir. It'll give joa a good appetite. Appetite! Bab! take that stuff out; take it out! 1 don': want no appetite— what's a fel ler want ot so appetite when he hain't got mosey enough in all, to pay for his break fast? VOL. 34, NO. 15. ilgriraifnral. Sorghom—Hints on its (allure. 7*o lie Editor of the American Agriculturist : Permit me to make a few suggestions to those who pntpose cultivating the sorgho pi*ct the com ing season. There appears to be a great many varieties of seed in the country, and a great many of them worthless. I do not know them by their names. The only way to secure a good variety is to procure seed of some one who las had a good yield of sugar and molasses from his cane. I believe that the people ot America have been hum - tugged roust awfully by the irrtrsdaetiM of the wrong varieties, and that most, if net all the good seed came originally throegh your office. The tetd most be matured to grow weH. Pre pare it for planting by soaking it, say in a weak sol ution of equal part* of chloride of Kme and copperas, if practicable. Prepare the ground well, ana mark out with a chin instead of a plow. The gem el the seed should be just visible. A little 3 our should be mixed with it while wet, to prevent sticking together and enable you to see it readily in cov ring. For planting with a machine, the seed must be dry. Sprouted semi should be covered about | of an inch—less would te sufficient if the weather is moist and warm. One of the varieties of the Itnphee I hare found more readily con. verlibie inta sugar than the sorgho. This may be planted the middle of May, but the sorgho should be planted just as soon a* the ground is dry enough, certainly not later than the first of May. -- " Do not let the weeds get the start. Keep the ground well tilled and clean nntii in July, or until the cane joints. The cane should be got farther along before mid- summer than is usual. For this purpose, some of my friends plant in hot-beds .m-i transplant, ami with good success—the labor oi transj lanting not being so great as the first boesng out of the sorghum from among th