TERMS O THE GLOBE. Por ennum in advance $l. 50 Six months 75 Three months 50 A failure to notify a discontinuance at the expiration of the term subscribed for will be considered a new engage ment. ' TERMS OF ADVERTISING. 1 insertion. 2 do. 3 do. Pourlines or less, $. 25 $ 37% $ 50 One square, (12 lines,) ...... .... 50 75.....•••. 100 Two squares,. 1 00 ..... .. 1 50 2 00 Three squares, 1 60 2 25 - 3 00 Over three week and less than three months, 25 cents per square for each Insertion. 3 months. 6 months. 12 months. Six lines or less, $1 5053 00 $5 00 One square, 8 OD 6 00 7 00 Two squares, 5 00 8 00 10 00 Three squares, 7 00 10 00 15 00 Pour squares, 9 00 13 00 20 00 Half a column, 12 OD 18 00 ....... ....24 00 One c01umn,....,. 20 00 .SO (io 50"00 Professional and Business Cards not exceeding four lines, one year, ~... ~.$3 04 Administrators' and Executors' Notices, I $1 76 Advertisements not marked with the number of inser tions desired, will be continued till forbid and charged ac cording to these terms. titrt V ottril. SONG FOR. THINKERS. DT CHARLES SWAM Take the Spade of Perseverance, Dig the Field of Progress wide; Every rotten root of faction, Hurry out and cast aside; . Every stubborn weed of error; Every seed that hurts the soil; Tares, whose very growth is terror— Dig them out whate'er the toil I Give the stream of Education, Broader channel, bolder force; Hurl the stones of Persecution Out where'er they idoqc its course ; Beek for strength in self-exertion; Work and still have faith to wait ; Close the crooked gate to fortune; Make the road to honor straight I Men are agents for the future; As they work, so ages win, Either harvest of advancement, Or the products of their sin! Follow out true cultivation; • Widen Education's plan ; Yrom the majesty of nature, Teach the Mtjesty of man I Take the Spade of Perseverance, Dig the Field of Progress wide; _ Every bar to true Instruction, Carry out and cast aside; Feed the Plant whose Fruit is Wisdom; Cleanse from Crime the common sod ; So that from the throne of heaven, It may bear the glance of God. 4ntertsting atisttilanp.. TEE GREAT MODERN BABYLON. Think of what London is I At the last census there were 2,362,236 persons of both sexes in it; 1,106,558 males, of whom 146,- 449 were under five years of age. The un marriednaeles were 6•70,380 ; ditto females, 735,871 • the married men were 399,098 • the wives 49,731 ; the widowers were 37, 089, the widows, 110,076. On the night of the census there *ere 28,- 598 husbands whose wives were not with them, and. 39,231 wives mourning their ab sent lords. Last year the number of children born in London were 89,833. In the same period 56,786 persons died. The Registrar General assumes that with the additional births, and by the fact of sol diers and sailors returning from the seat of war, and of persons engaged in peaceful pur suits settling in the capital, sustenance, cloth ing, and house accommodation must now be found in London for above 60,000 inhabitants more than it contained at the end of 1855. Think of that—the population of a large city absorbed in London, and no perceptible inconvenience occasioned by - it ? Rouses are still to let; there are still the usual tickets hung up in the windows in quiet neighbor hoods, intimating that apartments furnished for single gentlemen can be had within ; the country still supplies the town with meat and bread, and we hear of no starvation in conse quence of deficient supply. London is the healthiest city in the world. During the last ten years the annual deaths have been on the average 25 to 1000 of the population - ; in 1856 the proportion was 22 to 1000 ; yet, in spite of this, half of the deaths that happen on an average in London, be tween the ages of 20 and 44, are from con sumption and diseases of the respiratory or gans. The Registrar traces this to the state of the streets. lie says: There can be no doubt that the dirty dust suspended in the air that the people of London breathe, often excites diseases of the respiratory organs. The dirt of the streets is produced and ground now by innumerable horses, omnibuses and carriages, and then beat up in fine dust, which fills the mouth and inevitably enters the air passages in large quantities. The dust is not removed every day, but saturated with water in the great thoroughfares, sometimes ferments in damp weather ; and at other times ascends under the heat of the sun as atmospheric dust. " London," says Henry Mayhew, "may be safely asserted to be the most densely popu lated city in all the world ; containing one fourth more people than Pekin, and. two thirds more than Paris, more than twice as many as Constantinople ; four times as many as Vienna, or New York, or Madrid, nearly seven times as many as Berlin, eight times as many as Amsterdam, nine times as many as Rome, fifteen times as many as Copenhagen, and seventeen times as many as Stockholm." " London," says Horace Jay, " c'est une province converto de maisons." It covers an erect of 122 square miles in ex tent, or 78,029 statute acres, and contains 327,329 houses. Annually 4,000 new houses are in course of erection for upward of 40,000 new comers. The continuous line of buildings stretching from Holloway to Chamberwell is said to be 12 miles long. It is computed that if the buildings were set in a row they would reach across the whole of England and France, from York to the Pyrenees. London has 10,500 distinct streets, squares, circuses, crescents, terraces, villas, rows, buildings, places, lanes, courts, alleys, mews, yards, and rents. The paved streets of London, according to a return published in 1856, number over 5,000, and exceed 2,000 miles in length • the cost of this paved reading was £14,000 , 000, and the repairs cost £1,8100,000 per annum. London contains 1,900 miles of gas pipes, with a capital of nearly £4,000,000 spent in the preparation of gas. The cost of gas lighting is half a million. It has 360,000 lights; and 13,000,000 cubic feet of gas are burned every night. Last year along these streets the enormous quantity of upward of 80,000,000 of gallons of water rushed for the supply of the inhabi tants, being nearly double what it was in 1845. Mr. Mayhew says : If the entire people of the capital were drawn up in marching order, two and two, the length of the great army of Londoners would be no less than 670 miles, and, supposing them to move at the rate of WILLIAM LEWIS, VOL. Xlle three miles an hour, it would require more than nine days and nights for the average population to pass by. To accommodate this crowd, 125,000 vehi cles pass through the thoroughfares in the course of 12 hours; 3,000 cabs, 1,000 omni buses, 10,000 private job carriages and carts, ply daily in the streets ; 3,000 conveyances enter the metropolis daily from the surround ing country. Speaking generally, Tennyson tells us : "Every minute dies a man, Every minute one is born." In London, Mr. Mayhew calculates, 169 people die daily and a babe is born every five minutes. The number of persons, says the Registrar General, who died in 1856, in 116 public institutions, such as work houses and hospitals, was 10,381. It is - really shocking to think, and a deep stigma on the people or on the artificial ar rangements of society, by which so much i poverty is perpetuated, that nearly one per .] son out of five, who died last year, closed his days under a roof provided by law or public A charity. It is calculated that 500 men are drowned in the Thames every year. In the first week of the present year there were five deaths from intemperance alone. How much wretchedness lies in these two facts—for the deaths from actual intemperance bear but a small proportion to the deaths induced by the immoderate use of intoxicating liquors ; and of the 500 drowned, by far the larger class, we have every reason to believe are of the number of whom Hood wrote : "Mad with life's history, Glad to death's mystery, • Swift to be hurried. Anywhere, anywhere, Out of the world." According to the last reports, there were in London 143,000 vagrants admitted in one year into the casual wards of the work houses. Here we have always in our midst 107 bur glars, 110 house breakers, 38 highway rob bers, 773 pickpockets, 3,657 sneaksmen or common thieves, 11 horse stealers, 141 dog stealers, 3 forgers, 28 coiners, 317 utterers of base coin, 141 swindlers, 182 cheats, 343-re ceivers of stolen goods, 2,768 habitual rioters, 1,205 vagrants, 50 begging letter - writers, 86 bearers of begging letters, 6,371 prostitutes, beside 470 not otherwise described, making altogether a total of 16,900 criminals known to the police. These persons are known to make away with £42,000 per annum ; the prison popula tion at any particular time is 6,000, costing for the year £170,000. Our juvenile thieves cost us £3OO a piece. Mr. Timbs calculates the number of pro fessional beggars in London at 35,000, two thirds of whom are Irish. Thirty thousand men, women and children are employed in the costermonger trade ; besides, we have, ac cording to Mr. Mayhew, 2,000 street sellers of green stuff, 4,000 street sellers of eatables and drinkables, 1,000 street sellers of station ary, 4,000 street sellers of other articles, whose receipts are three million sterling, and whose incomes may be put down at one mil lion. Let us extend our survey, and we shall not wonder that the public houses, and the gin palaces, and the casinos, and the theaters, and the penny gaffs, and the lowest and vilest places of resort in London are full. In Spit alfields there are 70,000 weavers, with but 10s. per week ; there are 22,479 tailors ; 30,- 805 shoemakers ; 43,928 milliners ; 21,210 seamstresses; 1,769 bonnet makers; and 1,277 cap makers. What hard, wretched work is theirs ? There are two worlds in London, with a gulf between—the rich and the poor. We have glanced at the latter ; for the sake of contrast, let us look at the former. Emerson says the wealth of London determines prices all over the globe. In 1847 the money coin ed in the Mint was £5,158,440 in gold, £125,- 730 in silver, and £8,960 in copper. The business of the bank of England is conducted by about 800 clerks, whose salaries amount to about £190,000. The Bank in 1850 had about twenty millions of bank notes in circulation. In the same year there were about five millions deposited in the savings banks of the metropolis. The gross customs revenue of the port of London in 1849 was £11,070,176; sixty-five millions is the estimate formed by Mr. Mc- Culloch, of the total value of produce con veyed into and from London. The gross rental, as assessed by the property and income tax, is twelve and a half millions. The gross property insured at £166,000,000 and only two-fifths of the houses are insured. The amount of capital at the command of the entire London bankers may be estimated at 64 millions; the insurance companies have always 10 millions of deposits ready for in vestments ; 78 millions are employed in dis counts. In 1841, the transactions of one London house alone amounted to 30 millions. In 1839, the payments made in the clearing house were 954 millions—an enormous sum, which will appear still greater when we re member that all sums under £lOO are omit ted from this statement. All this business cannot be carried on without a considerable amount of eating and drinking. The popu lation consumes annually 277,000 bullocks, 30,000 calves, 1,480,000 sheep, 34,000 pigs, 1,600,000 quarters of wheat, 310,464,000 pounds of potatoes, 89,672,000 cabbages.— Of fish the returns are almost incredible.— Besides, it eats 2,742,000 fowls, 1,281,000 game, exclusive of those brought from the different parts of the United Kingdom ; from 70 to 75 millions eggs are annually imported into London from France and other countries. About 13,000 cows are kept in the city and its environs for the supply of milk and cream; and if we add to their value that of the cheese, and butter, and milk brought from the coun try into the city, the expenditure on produce daily must be enormous. Then London con sumes 65,000 pipes of wine, 2,000,000 gal lons of spirits, 43,200,000 gallons of porter and ale, and burns 3,000,000 tons of coal; and I have seen it estimated that one fourth of the commerce of the nation is carried in its port. On boxing night it was estimated that 60,- 000 persons visited the various theatres and places of amusement in London. In London, in 1853, according to Sir Mayne, there were 3,613 beer shops, 5,279 public houses, and 13 wine rooms. And now, to guard all this wealth, to pre serve all this mass of industry honest, and to keep down all this crime, what have we? 6,367 police, costing £373,968; 13 police courts, costing £45,050 ; and aout a dozen criminal prisons, 69 union relieving-officers, 316 officers of local boards, and 1,256 other local officers. • We have 35 weekly magazines, 9 daily newspapers, 5 evening, and 72 weekly ones. Independent of the mechanics' institutions, colleges, and endowed schools, we have 14,- 000 children of both sexes clothed and edu cated gratis, in the National and British and Foreign schools in all parts of London, and Sunday schools. The more direct religious agcncy may be estimated as follows: In the "Hand book to Places of Worship," published by Low in 1851, there is a list of 371 churches and chapels in connection with the Establishment; the number of church sittings, according to Mr. Mann, is 409,184; the Independents have about 140 places of worship, and 100,436 sit tings; the Baptists 130 chapels, and accom modation for 54,234 ; the Methodists, 154 chapels, 60,696 sittings ; the Presbyterians, 23 chapels and 18,211 sittings ; the Unitari ans, 9 chapels and about 3,300 sittings; the Roman Catholics, 35 chapels and 35,994 sit tings; 4 Quaker chapels, with sittings for 3,151 ; the Moravians have two chapels, with 1,100 sittings; the Jews have 11 synagogues and 3,692 sittings. There are 94 chapels be longing to the New Church, the Plymoth Brethren, the Irvingites, the Latter-day Saints, Sandemanians, Lutherans, French Protes tants, Greeks, Germans, Italians, which chapels have sittings for 18,833. We thus get 691,723 attendants on Divine exercises.--Ritchie's Night Side of London. The clock has just struck eight, (morning) and while the housemaid is doing the last brushing and dusting, I sit down to write to you in accordance with your suggestion, a few lines on "Housework Accomplished ;" not that we always have our homework ac complished by this hour; but, as we have this time, I have consequently a little leisure. As you remark, some people seem to suc ceed much better in their household duties than others. While some fail from real in difference, and some from ignorance, many others fail from want of tact or ingenuity ; to such, the suggestions you ask for will be ac ceptable and profitable. You have seen—who has not?—that one woman will drudge all day to do the same amount of work that another will have accom plished by nine or ten o'clock in the morning. Now to the cause: The first, perhaps, rises late, though possibly not—but there seems to be a lack of energy and system in all her do ings—she has no order in which things are to be done ; the consequence is great fatigue with little profit. The second rises early, goes about her work with spirit and alacrity —her heart is in it, and success is her reward. A few practical hints on this subject may not be amiss; and, as they are intended for farm ers' wives and daughters, they will any in detail only to country life. In the busy season, the laboring man wants his breakfast early; this, then, should be the first care in the morning, except a few mo ments judiciously used in toilet arrangement and putting the breakfast room in order, when circumstances are such as to prevent doing the latter the evening previous. Breakfast over, let your next duty be to put your house in order ; in this, have system, and do it well—it is far easier in the end.— When your kitchen and pantry work is done, let its aspect be such that an observer would pronounce it tidy. And your sitting room— let that be neat, cozy and inviting; let your sleeping apartments possess an air of hospi tality and comfort; it you have a parlor and are able, you may have it elegant—but let it too be like a cool bower on a summer's day. If one room (as is often the case in a new country) must supply the place of most or all of them, then let it possess the qualifica tions of all. Do not think your work is done when the broom, the mop and the dusting brush are laid aside—spend a few moments more in each room ; there are many nameless little things that can be done to add much' to the good appearance of all - see that the books and papers are in order, they may be a delight to the eye, instead of an ungainly pile of rubbish ; put things to righs" on the mantel—place your chairs and other moveables where they will make the room look best—let the lounge be tidy and inviting —loop up the window curtains neatly—make the fire look cheery, if you need a fire ; if not, let the place for it, be it stove or hearth, be clean and snug. When all this is accomplished, visit your pantry again, to see if your store of eatables need replenishing ; if so, now is your time, before the dinner hour arrives. While you are baking the bread and pastry, let Maggie, or Fanny, or Dollie, attend to whatever there is aside—ironing, churning and the like— days when there are none of these to be done, you will have time perhaps to read, or think, or sew, before dinner, but do not leave work about home, till afternoon if it can be avoided. When the sun is in the West, have on your clean cap . and shining apron, and take your easy . chair—you can, generally, if you manage rightly. One word about your table, and I've done: Get up your dishes to suit the palate, of course, but pay a. little regard to the eye, too; do not throw that meat on so hastily— keep the edge of the platter unsoiled—lay that bread on the plate in order—put the " cups and tea" on somehow—have a clean plate for the butter, arrange the dishes with care ; and now, if you will believe it, let me tell you I am not a fastidious old maid, but somebody's wife, and a HOUSEXCEEPER.r•-••• Prairie Farmer. aSpeak not ill of thy neighbor HUNTINGDON, PA., JUNE 17, 1857. Housekeeping---How to do it. -PERSEVERE.- Rules for Rome Education. The following rules we commend to all our patrons and friends, for their excellence, brevity, and practical utility. They are -wor thy of being printed in letters of gold and being placed in a conspicuous place in every household. It is lamentable to contemplate the mischief, misery and ruin which are the legitimate fruits of those deficiencies which are pointed out in the rules to which we have reference. Let every parent and guar dian read, ponder and inwardly digest: 1. From your children's earliest infancy, inculcate the necessity of instant obedience. 2. Unite firmness with gentleness. Let your children always understand that you mean what you say. . 3. Never promise them anything unless you are certain you can give them what you say. 4. If you tell a child to do something, show him how to do it, and see that it is done. 5. Always punish your children for wil fully disobeying you, but never punish them in anger. 6. Never let them perceive that they vex you or make you lose your self-command. 7. If they give way to petulance or ill temper, wait till they are calm and then gently reason with them on the impropriety of their conduct. 8. Remember that a little present punish ment, when the occasion arises, is more ef fectual than the threatening of a greater punishment should the fault be renewed. 9. Never give your children anything be cause they cry for it. 10. On no account allow them to do at one time what you have forbidden, under the same circumstances, at another. 11. Teach them that the only sure and easy way to appear good is to be good. 12. Accustom them to make their little re citations with perfect truth. 13. - Never allow of tale-bearing. 14. Teach them self-denial, not self-indul gence, of an angry and resentful spirit. If these rules are reduced to practice— daily practice—by parents and guardians, how much misery would be prevented, how many in danger of ruin would be saved, how largely would the happiness of a thou sand domestics circles be augmented! It is lamentable to see how extensive is paternal neglect, and to witness the bad and dreadful consequences in the ruin of thousands. The Fort Madison Argun is out in the fol lowing able article upon tattlers ; and while we endorse every word it contains, we can not help thinking that it is decidedly appli cable to all latitudes Every community is cursed by the pres ence of a class of people who make it their business to attend to everybody's business but their own. Such people are the meanest specimens of depraved humanity which an all-wise Providence permits to exist on this sin-cursed earth. It is well known that al most every person is somewhat disposed to speak evil of others ; and tattling is a sin from which very few can entirely claim to be exempt. But the object of our present article is to speak of that distinct class of tattlers who make tale-bearing the constant business of their lives. They pry into the private affairs of every family in the neigh borhood—they know the exact state of one neighbor's feeling toward another; they un derstand everybody's faults, and no little blunder, or misdemeanor ever escapes their vigilant watchfulness. They are particularly well posted upon everything connected with courtship and matrimony—know who are going to marry whom and can guess the exact time when it will take place. They watch every move ment of parties suspected of matrimonial in tentions, and if there is the slightest chance to create a disturbance, excite jealousy, or "break up" a match, they take immediate advantage of it, and do all in their power to keep people in a constant state of vexation. They glide quietly from gentleman to lady, from mother to daughter, from father to son, and in the ears of all they pour dark, bitter whispers of slander and abuse, and at the same time pretend to be the most sincere friend of those they talk to. Their black and nauseous pills of malicious slander are sugar-coated with smiles and honied words of friendship. Tattlers are confined to no particular class of society. They belong to all classes and operate in all. We find them among the rich and poor—the " upper ten" and the " lower million"—in the church and out of it. They are people who hare no heart and less brains—who have no higher ambition than to be well-informed in regard to other people's private business, to retail scandal to their neighbors, and exult with fiendish tri umph over the wounded feelings and bruised hearts of their innocent victims. Beauless old maids and childless matrons make the most accomplished scandal mongers in the world. They seem to take to tattling from the promptings of a natural instinct, and they prosecute it with an energy that would do infernal honor to their great leader —the Prince of darkness himself. Our contempt for such graceless creatures knows no bound, and we can find no words in which to express its infinity. What pun ishment they deserve we cannot know ; but God knows, and as sure as his eternal justice reigns, they will receive a retribution in pro portion to the magnitude of their offences against the laws of God and the interests of humanity. NAKED Pnorostriox.—The Elmira Adver tiser, in speaking of fashion, says: " Strip all the men and women of our vil lage of their fine clothes, and what a change would be. apparent." LOVE. your friend so as to hate his faults. A Crying Eva Editor and Proprietor. The Reading of the Young. We once sent a Sunday school book by a lady patient of ours, as a present to her little daughter. On inquiring afterwards how she liked it—" Indeed, doctor, I did not give it to her, as I have not yet had time to read it my self." That mother soon passed away, and doubtless to the better land, and long years have passed away also, but we have never failed to admire that mother's heart as often as the remembrance of her ceaseless vigilance has occurred to us, accompanied with the earnest wish, that all parents should emulate that mother's care. Up to the age of fifteen at least, and as long after as affection for the parent will prevent the child from doing any thing contrary to the known wishes of father or mother, no book should be read by a child without the parent's permission. Impressions are made for life, for eternity, on the mind, and heart, and memory of childhood—im pressions which mould the character for aye, or open up channels of thought which fix the the destiny. Untold mischief has been done to the minds and morals of the young by reading books on "Physiology" so-termed, causing apprehen sions which have acted as a ceaseless torture to multitudes, until by consultation with hon orable physicians, the groundless apprehen sions have been removed, which had been ex cited by plausible falsities and brazen-faced untruths. Equal care should be exercised as to the re ligious, moral, and miscellaneous reading of the young. Very few of our daily penny pa pers are fit to be read at the family fireside. Certainly not one in a dozen of all city week ly papers, not connected with a daily issue, but is chargeable justly with being made up with the veriest trash, to say nothing of their frequent obscenity, their slang, their spiteful hits at religion, its ministers, its professors, and the Bible itself. A drop of water will ultimately wear through the solid rock, and drop by drop will empty the ocean, and so is the influence of the re peated exhibition of bits of sarcasm, and infi delity, and profanation, which portions of the press are steadily throwing out. Not only are the minds of the young injuriously affec ted by these things, but persons of maturity, of intellect, of mental culture, will suffer by them. It is not long since that the death of Perci val, the poet, recalled to many memories his early promise, his later failure. How, with a heart, a mind, a culture capable of achiev ing great things for humanity, his light went down in the night of misanthropy and almost atheism! What was it that froze the heart and made desolate the whole character of that gifted man ? Reading in the spring time of life, the obscenities of Don Juan, the malignant diatribes, the ranting atheism of Lord Byron. Had other books been placed in the hands of this unfortunate man at that critical period of his life—books which would have cherished the better feelings of his na ture, which would have invited out his sym pathies towards his brother man, he might have died a Howard, or a Harlan Page, about whom sweet memories will arise for ages to come, instead of dying as he is said to have done, an uncomely oddity, a misanthrope, and an infidel. Parents 1 Have a ceaseless eye to - what your younger children read.—Ball's New York Journal of Health. 4° Good to Make Men Of." A gentleman once asked a company . of lit tle boys, what they were good for? One lit tle fellow promptly answered, "We are good to make men of." Think of that, my young friends; you are all good to make men and women of. We do not mean—nor did that little boy—that you are merely good to grow up to the size of men and women. No, we mean a good deal more than this. You are to make persons that will be respected and useful—that will help to do good in the world. No one, who is not useful, and who does not seek to make the world better, deserves the name of man or woman. You should not forget that, if there are to be any men and women—any that deserve such a name—twenty or thirty years hence, they are to be made of you who are now children. What a world this will be, when you grow up, if ail only make men and wo men! Will you not ponder this subject, and "Show yourselves men?" "Good to make men of." What kind of men will our youthful readers be twenty years hence? Will they be classed with the intelligent, the respectable, the industrious, the prosperous, the benevolent, the pious men of the time? for doubtless there will be such. It may require a little self-denial, and bard study and hard work; but such a character is cheaply purchased at that price—and such a character we wish all our readers to bear.— Youth's Companion. Happiness of Working Men. The situation or social position of the poor —and by that word we mean the laboring population—is by . no means so deficient in the means of happiness and comfort as many are led to believe. "The mechanics," says Lord Byron, " and working classes who can maintain their families, are, in my opinion, the happiest body of men. Poverty is wretch edness ; but it is, perhaps, to be preferred to the heartless, unmeaning dissipation of the higher orders." A popular author says, " I have no propensity to envy any one, least of all the rich and great : but if I. were disposed to this weakness, the subject of my envy would be a healthy young man, in full pos session of his health and faculties, going forth in a morning to work for his wife and children, or bringing them home his wages at night."—Lato Magazine. GAPES IN OIIICKENS.—This disease is often caused by feeding too liberally with wet In dian meal, when confined to the coop.— Chickens that are permitted to roam freely throne' the fields, are seldom troubled with the disease. The common Tucket, or pop corn, is better than meal, with which to feed chitens, as soon as they are four weeks old. We believe thiS pleasant amusement for boys and girls, and sometimes those of more mature age-aorigitafted in Germany, where it is called viel liebehen, Which, as it is spoken, has the sound of piiiiipkinaaawhiell may have been the origin of our word, to-which we have given a Latin termination—pena, because it infers a penalty or forfeiture exacted or won by the tact or management of the winning party. With us, however, the thing is managed clumsy, and quite without skill. A person in company chances to find a double-meated almond, and hands half the meat to another, and says, or rather would say: " Will you eat a philopena with me ?" The other may say, "I'm afraid," and refuse, or may accept one of the nuts, and eat it at the same time the challenging party eats the other: Thus they separate; and when they meet again, the one that can think to say "philopena" first to the other wins the for a felt, and has a right to name what it shall bo —generally ; among children, some trifle ; or among young folks, some little present, suit: able to the condition of the parties. Thus ; a young lady who wins a philopena of a gen tleman, may immediately add, "I wear No: 6,1 kids." If the parties meet in the street ; the lady may say, "Oh, yes ; I see yon . notice that my parasol is getting old. Well ; then ; I accept.' But the gentleman mast never allude to her want of an article, but exercise his judgment as to what would be acceptable. Generally, in our hot haste to win the phil opena we forget propriety, and become rude, in this land of thrift and harry. The thing is far better and more pleasantly managed in Gerarrany, and calls into exercise some of the most useful faculties of the mind. When a couple meet the next time after hav ing eaten philopena ; no advantage is taken of the other until one of them pronounces the word "pbilopena." This is the warning' that now the sport is to begin: Let me sera pose that a gentleman calls upon a. lady; she invites him in, but at the same time speaks the talismanic word: If he accepts the offer to take off his hat, he mast resolutely keep it on ; if to be seated, he taint stand, or if at table she should hand him any article which he accepts, she wins the forfeit: At the same time, he is watching to catch her off her guard—for the first acceptance of any offer from the other ends the game: Both are con , scantly exercising their wits to prevent being caught, and the sport often goes on all the evening. Perhaps the gentleman brings a little present, and says, "`Knowing that I should lose my philopena ; I have brought it along—here it is." If she is caught off her , guard by this smooth speech,she loses, for he immediately claims the forfeit: If neither wins at the first meeting ; the sport is contin ued at the second ; and it may happen that half a dozen parties meet at the same time, all anxious to win of their philopena part ners—so that the scene often becomes lu dicrously amusing. How preferable is this German play to our own ? And as the sport derived from philo pena is very innocent and pretty, we com mend it to the "young folks" of all America: —Exchange: NO. 62. A LESSON TO UNNATURAL MOTHERS.-A person in rather a high position has just ob tained from the Civil Tribunal of the Seine, France, a separation from his wife, with the right of keeping his child ; ill Consequence of the following circumstances: The child had the measles, and its medical attendant declared its life to be in danger, but the mother, nevertheless, continued to prepare her toilet for an evening party to which she had been invited., "You cannot leave the child who is dying," exclaimed the husband. The wife replied that it was I'm; possible for her to remain away . from the party without breaking her promise and be ing .4 cguilty of a want of politeness. The hus band again remonstrated with her, but itt vain; she insisted upon vino. to the path, if only for an hour. The husband then inform ed her that, if she carried her intention into execution, the door - a*old be closed against her on her return.- The wife left for the party, but on her return was refused admit tance. The Tribunal has decided that the husband was perfectly justified and has fur thermore ruled that a wife who forsakes her child in illness, forfeits her conjugal rights. A BEAUTIFUL IDEA.—Away among the Alleghenies there is a spring, so small that a single ox, on a summer's day, could drain it dry.lt steals its unobtrusive way among the hills, till it spreads out in the beautiful Ohio. Thence it streches away a thousand miles, leaving on its banks more than a hun dred villages and cities, and many thonsand cultivated farms, and bearing on its bosom more than half a thousand steamboats. Then joining the Mississippi, it stretches away and away some twelve hundred miles more s till It falls into the great emblem of eternity. It is one of the tributaries of the ocean, which, obedient only to God, shall roll and roar till the angel, with one foot on the sea and the other on the land, shall lift up his hand to heaven and swear that time shall be no lon ger. So with moral influence. It is a a rivulet—a river—an ocean, boundless and fathomless as eternity. A PRAYER CET SllORT.—Parson A.R.9 truly a pious man, and at the long gra,ces l which usually followed the meals, he and the whole family reverently knelt, except the Parson's brother, (who being o'er much far yble and overlooking the garden.) One day, it was summer time, the Parson was unusual ly favored; not appearing to notice the fidgety actions of his brother, who kept t*isting about, until finding no end to the thanks, he broke in with— "Cut it, Parson—cut it short; the cows are in the garden playing h—II with the cabba ges?" BE CAREFIIL.—SeveraI anecdotes turn on that inexhaustible theme for merriment—the sorrows of matrimony. In passing through the street, a bier was struck against the cor ner of a house, and the corpse reanimated by the shock. Some years afterwards; when the woman died in good earnest, her husband called to the bearers. "Pray, gentleman, be careful in turning the corners." I*r Housekeepers should know, now that the season of pies and puddings is approach ing and sugar inordinately dear, that the acid in rhubarb, gooseberries and currants may bo neutralized by putting a third of a teaspoon ful of soda in the fruit and without affecting the flavor. A less quantity of sugar wilt then answer to sweeten. gfirA child was recently born in one of the Sandwich Islands, having four eyes, two on the back and two on the front side of the head. Its one of 'em. BEAT IT WIIO CAN.—There is a man in Germantown who is so fond of lying, that lie would rather tell a lie on six months' credit, than the truth for the cash. Fhllopena,