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eLext iulx~r.
WATCH, 140 T kIER..
Mother, wateh the little feet
Climbing o'er the garden wall,
Bounding through the buAy street,
Ranging cellar, shed, and ball;
Never count the moments lost,
Never count the time it costs,
Guide them, mother, Ividlo you may
Mother, watch the little hand
Picking ilerriCS by the way,
Making houses in the sand,
Tossing up the fragrant hay.
Never care the question ask—
" Why to rue the weary tn.:lc?"
The same little hand may prove
Messengers of light and love.
Mother, watch the little-tongue,
Prattling, eloquent, and wild;
"What is said and what is sung
By the joyous, happy child.
Catch the word while yet unspoken,
Stop the vow before 'tis broken,
This same tongue may yet proclaim
Blessings in a Saviour's name.
Mother, watch the little heart, -
Beating soft and warm for you,
Wholesome lessons now impart,
- - _
Keep, 01 keep that young heart true
Extracting every weed,
Sowing good .and precious seed,
Harvest rich you may then see
ripen for eternity.
liltttrcsfing allisttitany.
The Quaker's Corn Crib
A Mall had been in the habit of stealing
corn from his neighbor, who was a Quaker.
Every night he would go softly to the crib,
and fill his bag with the ears which the good
old Quaker's toil had placed there. Every
morning the'old gentleman observed a dimin
ution of his corn pile. This was very annoy
ing, and must be stopped—bat how'? Many
an one would have said, "Take a gun, con
ceal yourself, wait till he comes, and fire."—
Others would have said, "Catch the villain,
and have him sent to jail."
But the Quaker was not prepared to enter
into any such measures. }le wanted to pun
ish the offender and at the same time bring
about his reformation, if possible. So he
fixed a sort of trap close to the hole through
which the man would thrust his arm in get
ting the corn.
The wicked neighbor proceeded on his un
holy.errand at the hour of midnight, with
bag in hand. Unsuspectingly he thrust his
hand into the crib to seize an ear, when, lo
he was unable to withdraw it! In vain he
ti crnvi aud_nulled, and sweated, and_ater-.
nately cried - an - d — etffsett: fits la nd - was last,
and every effort to release it only made it the
more secure. After a time the tumult in his
breast measurably subsided. lie gave over
his useless' truggles, and began to look around
him. All was silence and repose. Good
men were sleeping comfortably in their beds,
while be was compelled to keep a dreary, dis
graceful watch through the remainder of that
long and tedious night, his hand in constant
pain from the pressure of the cramp which
held it. His tired limbs, compelled to sus
tain his weary body, would fain have sunk
beneath him, and bisheavy eyes would have
closed in slumber, but no ! there was uo rest,
no sleep for-him. There he must stand and
watch the progress of the night, and at once
desire and dread the return of the morning.
Morning came at last, and the Quaker looked
out of his window and found that he had
"caught the man."
What was to bo done? Some would say,
"Go out and give him a good cowhiding just
as he stands, and then release him ;
cure him." But not so said. the Quaker.—
Such a course would have sent the man away
'embittered, and muttering curses of revenge.
The good old man hurried on his clothes, and
starte at once to the relief and punishment
of his prisoner.
"Good morning, friend," said he, as he
came in speaking distance. "How does thee
do?"
The poor culprit made no answer, but burst
into tears.
"0 fie !" said the Quaker, as ho proceeded
to release hint.
"I'm sorry that thee has got thy hand fast.
Thee put it in the wrong place, or it would
mot, have been so."
The man looked crest-fallen, and begging
forgiveness, hastily turned to make his re
treat.
"Stay," said his persecutor, for he was now
becoming such to the offender, who could
haVe received a blow with a much better grace
than the kind words .that were falling from
the Quaker's lips. "Stay, friend, thy bag is
not filled. Thee needs corn,. or thee would
not have taken so much pains to get R.-
-Come, let us fill it." And the poor fellow
was obliged to stand and hold the bag while
the old man filled it, interspersinm c the ex.er
cises with the pleasantest conversation imag
inable, all of which were alike daggers in
the heart of his chagrined and mortified vic
tim.
The bag was.fdled and the string tied, and
the sufferer hoped soon to be out of the pres
ence cf his tormentor, but again his purpose
was thwarted. _
"Stay," said the Quaker, as the man was
about to hurry off, having uttered once more
his aptfties and thanks. "Stay, Ruth has
breakfa'st ere this ; thee must not think of
going without breakfast; come, Ruth is cal-
This was almost unendurable. This was
"heaping coals" with a vengeance. In vain
the mortified neighbor begged to be excused.
In vain lie.pleaded. to be released from what
would be , to him a punishment ten times more
severe than stripes and imprisonment. The
Quaker was inexorable, and he was obliged
to yield. = Ili'eakfsst over; "Now," said the old
Quaker, as he helped the victim shoulder the
bao . ,_"lf thee needs any more corn, come in
the r ' day-time and thee shall have it."
With - what shame and remorse did that
guilty man turn from the dwelling of the pi
ous Quaker 1 Everybody is ready to say that
he never again troubled the Quaker's corn
crib. I'havo something still better than that
to tell you. He at once repented and reform
ed, and my informant tells me that he after-
$l. 50
75
50
WILLIAM LEWIS,
VOL. XIII.
wards heard him relate, in an experience
meeting, the substance of the story I have
related, and he attributed his conversion, un
der God's blessing, to the course the Quaker
had pursued, to arrest hint in his downward
course.
Who Marry and. Have Children in the
More than four-sevenths of the marriages
in Massachusetts are among the foreign born.
Why is it? For the most simple of reasons
—the foreign born can afford to get married,
and the native' born cannot; and this must
be, so long as our extravagant modes of life
continue. In social life there never was a
people tending to deeper and more destruct
ive social corruption—and that is most evi
dent from the records of all the courts, and
the columns of all the newspapers, than
Americans. Our fathers used to tell of the
profligacy of Paris, their children tell of the
mysteries of New York—a city not far be
hind any in Europe. And making proper
allowances for size, how far is New York
ahead of our other cities and towns ? Once
was a time when a wife was a " help meet ;"
now in a thousand of cases you can change
the " meet" to " eat," and make it read more
truthfully. We boast of our system Of edu
cation ; we have female high schools, female
colleges, female medical schools, and female
heavens. Our girls are refined, learned,
wise ; they can sing, dance, play pianos,
paint, talk French and Italian, and all the
soft languages, write poetry, and love like
genuses. They are ready to be courted at
ten years, and can be taken from school and
married at fifteen, and divorced at twenty.—
They make splendid shows on bridal
: tours,
can coquette and flirt at the watering places,
and shine like angels at winter parties. But
heaven be kind to the poor wretch that mar
ries in the fashionable circles. What are
they at washing floors ? Oh, we forgot, no
body has bare floors now—vulgar that would
be! What are they at making bread and
boiling beef ? Why how thoughtless we are
—to be sure they will board or have servants.
What are they at mending old - clothes? But
there we are again ; the fashions change so
often that nobody has old clothes but the rag
man and the paper makers now !—What are
they at washing babies' faces and pinning up
their trowsers. And here is our intolerable
stupidity once more ; having children is left
to the Irish ! What lady thinks of having
nasty children about her now, or if she is so
unfortunate, don't she put them to wet nurses
to begin with, and boarding schools after
where young men hesitate and grow old be
fore they can decide whether they can marry,
and afterwards keep clear of bankruptcy and
crime. What is the consequence ? There
arc more persons living a single life—are
there more leading a virtuous life ? It is
time fur mothers to know that the extrava
gance they encourage is destructive of the
virtue of their children ; that all the foolish
expenditures making to rush their daughters
to matrimony, are, instead of answering that
end, tending to destroy the institution of mar
riage altogether. -
DESTROY YOUR WEEDS.—D, is a curious sight
to see farmers fighting weeds all through the
spring and summer, and then letting all that
escape go to seed and spread their mischief
throughout the fall !
_Look at any of our cornfields or potato
patches in September, and lo ! what a choice
assortment of pig -weeds, beggar-lice, and
other of the weed tribe, flaunt their seed-pods
to the breeze, ready for any amount of mis
chief in the spring !
Even our gardens, wherein, if anywhere an
ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure,
are usually left to mature a wilderness of
weeds every season, and not a blow struck to
remedy the matter, when blows would be
worth striking.
It is true, some very prudent proprietor may
spend an hour or two in pulling up dock or
burdocks, but instead of exterminating them
by fire and faggot, he throws them into the
highway, where hoof and wheel thresh them
out, and the first wind or rain is sure to scat
ter them broadcast over all the region round;
and so next year lie has all his work to do
over again.
Now, we hold that no good farmer or gar
dener will ever let a weed go to seednpon his
domain. Have them out!—hoe them out—
out with them at any cost! The barnyard
and muck heap will be glad of them ; and
when secured green, they are worth their
weight in any kind of manure, hardly.ex
eepting guano. But when the seeds are ripe,
them nothing but fir6should be their portion.
There is an old story of avrace of beings
who were doomed as a punishment, to pour
water in a seive till it should be full. Let
each farmer see to it, that the seive through
which daily meal comes .has no tares in its
bottom.—Life Illustrated.
A MooNuonr SCENE.—The following is
certainly the most touching moonlight scene
we have ever read:
" After whirling for some time in the ecs
tatic waltz, Caroline and. myself stepped out
unobserved on to the balcony, to enjoy a few
moments of solitude so precious to lovers. It
was a glorious night ! The air was cool and
refreshing. As I gazed on the beautiful be
ing at my side, I thought I never saw her
look so lovely. The full moon cast her bright
rays over her whole person, giving her an al
most angelic appearance, imparting to her
flowing curls a. still more golden-hue. One
of her soft, fair hands rested in mine, and
ever and 'anon she met my ardent gaze with
one-of pure love. Suddenly a change came
over her soft features; her full, red lip trem
bled as if with suppressed lashes ; the mus
cles of her faultless mouth became convulsed;
she gasped for breath ; and, snatching her
hand from tho soft pressure of my own, she
turned suddenly away, buried her face in her
fine cambric handkerchief, and—sneezed!
Del.,A wife full of truth innocence and
love, is the prettiest sower a man can wear
next his heart.
United States
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The Varieties and Culture of Sheep
There are acres upon acres of land in Penn
sylvania admirably fitted for raising sheep,
and the wool produce is one of the great sta
ples of our State. There are few animals
more useful to man for food and raiment, and
any information regarding their improve
ment, or the means to prevent deterioration ;
deserves the deepest attention. In that val
uable publication, 2he Plough, Loom and
Anvil, Dr. Brown, of our city, is quoted as
dividing sheep into the wool bearing, and the
hair bearing. The structure of tho fibre of
the wool on the former, appears to be essen
tially different from that of the hairy sub
stance on the latter, when both are viewed
through a powerful microscope. These are
distinct species and should be kept so. Yet
no attention has been paid to this fact, and
the races have become so crossed and confoun
ded, that the same sheep bears a fleece of
both descriptions on different parts of its
body, which are incapable of such a separa
tion as ought to take place. The importance
of keeping these two sorts of wool apart will
appear, when it is understood, that after be
ing wrought into cloth, the texture of each is
quite different. On the hair-bearing sheep
we find a plant-like appurtenance growing
out of the skin, elliptical and hollow. When
severed by a sharp instrument the section
presents about the appearance of an italic o,
having the longer diameter one-third longer
than the shorter, and having a central canal
from one end to the other, through which the
coloring matter flows. It is made up of a
great number of fibres, running longitudi
nally, and held together by a cortex or bark.
The fibres are so disposed around an open
central canal, that two sides, the opposites of
each other, have 'more of them than the in
tervening sides, giving to hair the shape of a
flattened tube. The cortex or bark is not
continuous, but made up of scales, the end
of each scale projecting a little 'beyond that
above it ; and the termini of those scales are
not pointed but round; and. they lie closely
to the body of the hair, so as to produce little
roughness, and to offer no obstruction when
one hair is drawn or shoved over another.—
That is, there are, no sharp, beardlike points
to catch and hold fast to another object.—
This, we shall see by and by, is the reason
why hair, however fine, will not mat—cannot
be wrought into fulled cloth. If you press
it together it will not stay-`-pressed; there is
nothing to hold it.
On the wool-bearing sheep, we find also a
plant-like appurtenance, having its root in
the skin, and so much like that of the hair-.
_±.lyA .:2? /3 , 14
detect a specific difference. On applying a
microscope of high power, it is found to be
about twice as much flattened, to have no cen
tre canal, to be made up like the other of a
great number of fibres, so arranged as to pro
duce the flattened form of an italic o, a little
longer and narrower than the printer would
make it, and to be covered with cortical scales.
These scales are entirely unlike those of hair.
Each scale pointed instead of being round at
the end, and instead of lying flat on the body
of the hair, the point turns outward, so that
every portion of fibre of wool is thoroughly
bearded. If one portion of it comes in con
tact with another, a separation cannot easily
be effected. The peculiar shape and position
of these cortical scales afford the reason why
wool can be matted, or worked into fulled
cloth, while hair cannot. Now for an exam
ple of the nature of these two varieties. One
buys a piece of flannel. It is washed, but it
does not shrink. It is worn and washed al
ternately ; it becomes thin, but still does not
shrink. The garment preserves its shape and
is, if anything, more pleasant than at first,
having a soft silky coat. That flannel was
made of the hair variety. At another time
you purchase a piece of flannel, and the con
sequence of washing and wearing is directly
the opposite. It shrinks, but evenly, grows
thick and almost impervious to perspiration
and unfit for use. The laundress must not
be blamed; it was made of wool without any
hair, the nature of which is to shrink. Try
still another piece of flannel. It will shrink
much, but unevenly, some portions more than
others. Spread it on a table; parts of it will '
touch it, while other parts will rise more or
less above the surface. One might as well
straighten a natural - .curl of hair by the ham
mer, as to make this fabric lie smooth and
even. 'This flannel was manufactured from
the fleece of sheep in whose veins the blood
of the wool and hair-bearing races had been
improperly mingled. The effect is injurious.
The two should be kept entirely distinct, and
then the quality of the fabric will be uniform
and to be depended. on, Each sort of wool
has its peculiar value; but the combination
of the two having a nature so opposed, can
rarely if ever be anything but hurtful.
Dr. Brown concludes, from an immense
collation of facts, that the hair-bearing—
which may be also called the flannel produ
cing sheep—will - flourish best in island or
coast localities, or such as are subjected to
the influences of seabreezes. This, of course,
is characteristic of
.our whole Atlantic coast
from the British to the Mexican territories.—
His second inference is, that an inland, hilly,
rolling country, with a tolerably dry atmos 7
phere, is most favorably to the wool-bearing
:or the fulled cloth-producing sheep. lie is
- of opinion, that with the exception of the At
lantic strip, and some other oceanic -regions,
the United States is the best country in the
world for the production of fine wool and
fabric. Dr. Brown supposes that a large pro
portion of the sheep among us are mongrels
or hybrids, producing a mixture of wool and
hair. It is exceedingly important, however,
to separate the two kinds, and to breed none
but the pure blood of one 'sort or the other.
We have in, the 'United States 180,528,000
acres of unimproved lands; and yet the little
territory of Austria, which Mr. Webster told
llulseman was so small a patch on the map
of the world as hardly to be discernible, pos
sesses a good many more sheep than we do,
numbering in that diminutive country about
seventeen millions ; whereas, we can only
boast of fourteen millions. Of the product
of these seventeen millions, Austria exports
annually to the value of twenty-five millions
of florins, retaining for her own use eight
-PERSEVERE.-
HUNTINGDON, PA., AUGUST 26, 1857.
millions worth. On the contrary, the pro
duct of our sheep is annually but 52,576,059
pounds, leaving a deficit of 18,345,970 pounds
to be imported from abroad for the supply of
our own manufactures. How desirable is it
on account of their meat, now selling at
eighteen cents a pound, as well as for their
fleece, that our fills and valleys should be en
livened by these beautiful and valuable crea
tures, without which a landscape cannot de
serve the name of picturesque I But our
countrymen appear to be about as backward
in their study of public economy as they aro
in their taste in painting.
The Patch on Niarcy's Breeches.
Harper's Weekly relates the following an
ecdotes of Mr. Marcy
" While he was Governor of this State, he
was visiting Newburgh on some public occa
sion, and with a party of gentlemen, Whigs
and Democrats, was at Orange Hotel. Good
humor was prevailing, and one story sug
gestedanother. The Governor always en
joyed a story, and could tell one with excel
lent effect. A Whig lawyer was present,
and the Governor recognizing him, said:
" All, yes ; I'll tell you a good story of
Spooner. The other day he came up to Al
bany on his way to the Whig Convention at
Utica, and so he took it in his way to call on
me to get a pardon for a convict at Sing
Sing. I heard the case, examined the docu
ments, and being satisfied that all was right,
agreed to grant the request. Spooner hand
ed me the paper to cadorse and I wrote:
"Let pardon be granted, W. L. Marcy ;"
when Spooner cried out, 'Hold; hold, Gov
ernor, that's the wrong pr,per 1' And sure
enough it was a Whig speech, he was going
to 'make at Utica, abusing me the worst pos
sible way. But I had granted pardon in ad
vance, and I suppose he committed the of
fence afterwards."
The story was received, with great ap
plause, and Spooner being looked to for a re
sponse, instantly went on with the following,
which for an extempore story, certainly is
capital :
Yes, gentlemen, yes I did. And when
the Convention was over we went to Niagara
Falls, and as we were dragging on by stage
over miserable corduroy roads, banging our
heads against the top of the coach, and then
coming down as if it were to go through the
bottom, the stage came to a dead halt; the
driver dismounted, opened the door, and re
quested us all to descend. We did so, sup
posing some accident had occurred. When
we li;orefall out, standing on the ends of the
rogs-or- -, wrotrir , Gru, 0-az-I. rot*
took off his• hat and said: "Gentlemen we
always stop hero out of respect to the Gov
ernor; this is the identical spot where Gov.
Marcy tore his pantaloons !
The story was heard with great jollifica
tion, in which no one joined more heartily
than the Governor himself.
The pantaloon incident deserves to be re
corded in every history of this great man.—
He was sent out to hold special sessions of
Court to try the Anti-Masonic parties charged
with murder. He was to receive a salary
and his expenses. With that nice regard
for details that belonged to his sterling char
acter, he kept a minute account of all his
expenditures, and handed in the list on his
return, without thinking it necessary or
proper to revise and strike out those items of
a private nature, which other men, less scru
pulous in greater matters, might have care
fully. suppressed. There stood the tailor's
bill for mending. The .political foes of the
Judge, when he came to be candidate for
Governor, found it, and paraded it before the
world in the newspapers, and making an ef
-figy of Mr. Marcy suspended it in the streets
of. Albany, with a great patch on the panta
loons, and the tailor's charge on to of that.
But an observant people saw through the
patch and the charge into the heart of an
honest man, and in that very deed of his,
they recognized a frankness and transpa
rency of caracter that commended him to
their warm approbation. It is not probable
that the pantaloon charge lost for him a sin
gle vote, while it is doubtless true that it
made for him a multitude of friends. He
was never ashamed of it, and never had rea
son to be.
The last dodge to sell ready made
clothing has been introduced by some of the
Boston dealers. They place in the coat pock
et an old portmonnaie stuffed with paper; a
customer conies along inquiring for a vest
ment. The dealer, if he judges his customer
to be of the right stripe, after essaying several
coats, at last says: "Here is a coat made for
a gentleman—he wore it one day and sent it
back—it was too small for him—try it on.—
Ah! it fits first rate—like if it was made for
you. It is well made—buttons sewed on—
strong pockets." The customer puts his
hands into the pockets to try them, when his
fingers come in contact with the pocket book.
His imagination is kindled with the idea of
appropriating the supposed treasure. "How
much did you say the coat was?" he eagerly
asks. The dealer names a good price. "It
suits me—l'll take it," is the quick reply.—
The money is paid—the self duped customer
walks off hurriedly with his supposed prize--
not stopping to hear the suppressed shuckle
of the dealer as he looked after him out of
the corner of his eye. A method of securing
sales, which savors strongly of rascality and
the drop game.
TrrE, NEXT HOUSE OF CONGEESS.--The re
cent elections for Congress give the following
political complexion to the House : Demo
crats, 110 ; Republicans, 91; Americans, 8;
vacancies, 2. Four States are yet to elect;
but making allowances for accidents, the fol
lowing is likely to prove.to be the true state
of parties in the House in full Congress :
Democrats, 125 ; Republicans, 91; Ameri
cans, 16 ; vacancies, 2. The House of Rep
resentatives consists of 234 members-118
members constituting majority. As the case
now stands—allowing no change in the four
States where elections are held—the Demo
crats will have a majority of sixteen in• the
next House.
Shall we have more Capital in Farming?
It is surprising to see how littlefaith far
mers in the East have in the productiveness
of their own business, and how . much more
ready they are to invest capital in the enter
prises of others, than in their own. If a new
bank wants capital, they are ready to furnish
any surplus they may have for the stock. If
a, new manufacturing company is started,
they are ready to furnish the money. If a
railroad is chartered, or new bonds are issued,
they are ready to purchase. Very many far
mers are conscious that they do not get their
6 per cent. from the capital they have already
invested in their business, and they jump at
once to the conclusion that every other busi
ness that pays 6 per cent. is better than their
own.
They do not consider that the productive
ness of capital depends much more upon the
skill with which it is invested than upon the
particular business to which it is devoted. In
a business so necessary as tilling the soil, cap
ital well laid out must be uniformly produc
tive, and pay a good interest with more ceil
tainty than any other business. There never
comes a time when their crops are not salea
ble, rarely a timo when they are not in brisk
demand. There never has yet been a season
in which all crops proved a failure. The far
mer has always something to sell, if he man
ages wisely..
There is Much more difference in the pro
ductiveness of one farmer's capital, and that
of another than there is between farming
eapiti.l and that - which is invested in other
pursuits. Some tillers of the soil in this
country make 12 per cent., and show it by
their accounts. Others do not make 3 per
cent., and show it in their slip-shod farming,
broken fences, and slovenly housekeeping.
The trouble with this latter class is that I
they have not invested their capital in the '
right place. They put it all into the soil, buy
ing four or five times as much as they work,
leaving the larger part of their capital virtu
ally sunk, where it does not yield them a cent
of profit. They have nothing left for work
ing the soil, have poor tools, poor stock, poor
labor, and make a poor business. We were
recently conversing with a farmer who had a
farm of a hundred acres—run down, but easi
ly worked, where, capital could be employed
to good advantage. He had capital enough
to make it highly productive, bank stock,
notes of hand, and real estate to a large
amount. Yet ho was not employing labor to
the amount of a hundred dollars a year.—
Two cows only were kept where a dozen might
have been pastured in plenty, if ho would
t imt the...9_on 3 1 2.,-,cr0,74.,ar,..-.2;fi5,...c..-
t ousand dollars invested in his farm did not
probably pay him two per cent. because he
was too close-fisted to invest capital enough I
in manure and labor to make his acres profit
able. All over England they spend near as
much money in working the soil as will here
purchase it. From thirty to forty dollars is
a common expenditure for each acre under
the plow. A large crop, secured by high
manuring and great care, is found to pay bet
ter profit on the cost of production, than poor
crops raised by skinning.
We believe there is now in the hands of
farmers, and within their reach, all the capi
tal that is needed to make their farms highly
productive, and pay a good interest. It should
be invested in more labor, better tools, more
manure, and a more thorough working of the
soil. Few of the farmers in the North and
East emply half the labor they could use to
advantage. They seem to distrust their own
ability to direct labor, or fear that it will not
bring a profitable return. They are penny
wise and pound foolish. They have a hun
gry market at their doors, and every farm
product brings a good price. If there is a
profit in the sale, why not raise more and sell
more? Expand your business, as a merchant
or manufacturer would do under like circum
stances.—Lancaster Republican.
CHICKENS DRESSED AS TERRAPINS.—BoiI
fine, large, tender chicken ; when done, and.
while yet warm, cut it from the bones into
small pieces, as for chicken salad ; put it
into a stew-pan with one gill of boiling wa
ter; then stir together, until perfectly
smooth, one quarter of a pound of butter,
one teaspoonfull of flower, and the yolk of
one egg; which add to the chicken, half at a,
time, stirring all well together ; then season
with salt and pepper. After letting it sim
mer about ten minutes, add half a'gill of
Medeira, wine, and send. to the table hot.
How TO COOK CA.IIIIAGE.—Chop the half of
an ordinary head very fine, put in the spider
or saucepan, add two-thirds of a teacup of
water, a table-spoonful of lard, and a half
tea-spoonful of salt ; cover and cook it from
one hour and a half to two hours, giving
it now and then a stirring. Then add two
thirds of a teacup of good, vinegar, some
pepper and salt suffictent to season it to
taste. Let it be on the fire five minutes and
serve up.
CORN PUDDING.—Cooks, attention! Take
four ears of green corn, boil them till half
done, cut off the corn as fine as convenient,
mix it with two heaping spoonfulls of flour,
one pint of sweet milk, salt and pepper to
season, bake it well, and you will have the
most ecstatic dish ever invented.
COLD FRIED CHICKEN.—Cat the chicken
into quarters, and take off the skin; rub it
with an egg beaten up, and cover it with gra
ted bread, seasoned with pepper, salt, and
chopped parsley; fry it in butter, thicken a
little brown gravy with flour and butter, and
add a little Cayenne pickle, and rnusl;room
catsup.
CERE FOR BERNS, BRUISES, &E.----11aVing
seen in your valuable paper, many good re
cipes, I take the liberty to send you an infal
lible cure for burns, cuts and bruises—Tinc
ture of Arnica. I consider it the best for
burns. It takes the fire out without leaving
a blister • and the best remedy for cuts and
bruises known. I have tried it and know it
to be good. E. is also commended to
- us as a remedy for the tooth.-ach.e. Apply a
few drops, on a little cotton,, to the decayed
tooth and- inflamed gums,—Ed. .Tcl.
Editor and. Proprietor.
NO. 10.
How to Avoid a Bad Husband
1. Never marry for wealth. A woman's
life consisteth not in the thing she possesseth:
2. Never marry a fop; or on who struts
about dandy-like, in his silk gloves and ruf
fles, with silver cane, and rings oii his fingers;
Beware ! there is a trap.
3. Never marry a niggard; close fisted;
mean; sordid wretch; who saves every penny
or spends it grudgingly. Take care lest h©
stint you to death.
4. Never marry a stranger, or one whose
character is not known or tested. Some
females jump right into the fire, with their
eyes wide open.
5. Never marry a mope or drone, one whe
drawls and draggles through life, one foot af
ter another, and lets things take their own
course.
6. Never marry a man who treats his mo
ther or sister unkindly or indifferently. Such
treatment is a sure indication of a mean man.
1. Never on any account marry a gambler,
a profane person, one who in the least speaks
lightly of Clod. Such s. man can never make
a good husband.
S. Never marry a sloven, a man who is
negligent of his dress, and is filthy in his
habits. The external appearance is an index
to the heart.
9. Slum the rake as a snake, a viper, a very
demon.
10. Finally, never marry a man who is ad
dicted to the use of ardent spirits. Depend
upon it, you are better off alone, than you
would be were you tied to a man whose
breath is polluted, and whose vitals are be
ing gnawed out by alcohol.
In the choice of a wife, take the obedient
daughter of a good mother.
'MATRIMONIAL OSTENTATION.—The latest .
matrimonial ' touch' is to advertise the name
of the bridesmaid and groomsman, together
with those of the bride and groom. The ex
ample has been set in New York by the an
nouncement of the marriage of Collin M.
Ignersoll, M. C., of New Haven, to Julia,
Helen, daughter of the lion. Zadoc Pratt, of
Prattsville.' The publication states--" Tho
parties were accompanied to the altar 'by
Miss Townsend, of New York city, and His
Excellency Governor Seymour, of Connecti
cut, our New Minister to Russia." About
eighty years ago, marriages in Philadelphia
were announced thus: " Mr. David Franks,
merchant, to the amiable and accomplished
Miss Dolly Jones, a handsome young lady
with a large fortune." Fashions change in
regard to matrimonial annunciations and
matrimonial fashions. It is becoming very
popular for the clergyman who officiates at a
marriage among the quality,' now-a-days,
to be assisted' by another clergyman.—
What the assistant does, we know not;
probably he holds the strings whilst his as
sociate ties the knot.' It is also becoming
fashionable to have two, four, and even six
bridesmaids and groomsmen. In time, we
will probably see marriage announcements
thus:
MARRIED :—On the 17th inst., at Codfish
Hall, the splendid mansion of the Hone
Peter Drysalter, by the Right Rev. Bishop
Pusey, assisted by the RighV Rev. Bishop
Pompous, the Hon. Peter Thinlegs, a de ,
scendant of the ancient family of Thinglegs,
to the beautiful Alice Clara Amanda Flirt,
a young lady possessing amiable manners
and. a hundred thousand. dollars. The par
ties were attended to the altar by Augustus
Addlepate, Esq., Frederick Nincum, Esq.,
Mortimer Moustache, Esq., Miss Julia Silly,
phina Nichts Kumerous, a young daughter
of Count Leopold Nichts Kumerous, of the
Austrian Empire. Eight hundred and sixty
invitations were issued.—Sunday Dispatch.
RATES OF INTEREST IN MINNESOTA AND
ELBE
WIIERE.--The Sabbath evening meeting at the
- Methodist church is a famous resort for the
young people, including the girls. The church
don't always take them all in, and some of
the "boys" have to stand under the window
outside. Old Deacon Day is an exeeThmt
man in his way. He is a "nioney-lendt.r 9
and "land-shark," and has an excellezit fac
ulty of getting "olfired big rates." Well,
the old man was down for a prayer the other
night. The "brethren" were putting in the
tallest kind of "amens," and the old man
getting on a powerful unction, when, lifting
un his voice like a western thunder, he roar
ed. out : "Oh, Lord, give us greater interest
in heaven." A young rascal outside, under
the promptings of the moment, in reply, sung
out at the very top of his voice : "Hold on,
old man ! You're in for five per cent. a
month down here, and in God's name, don't
cry out for anything worse up there!" The
deacon didn't rise any higher on that occa.
sion.—St. Anthony Correspondence of the
1-'ortland Advertiser.
HORSE TALK.—The New York Spirit of the
Times gives the following characteristics of a
good horse:-1. His eyes, even when seen
in the stable, are perfectly clear and trans
parent, and the pupils or apples of the eyes
are alike in color and size. 2. On being
nipped in the gullet, he will utter a sound
like that from a bellows. If, on the contrary
he should give vent to a dry, husky, short
cough, beware of him. His wind is unsound.
3. His legs are smooth and "clean." If
you find bunches or puffs, of a different size,
though he may not be lame, disease - lurks
there. 4. If broad and full between the
eyes, he is susceptible of being trained to al
most anything. 5. If some white or parti- .
colored, he. is docile and gentle.
FATE OF TIIE APOSTLES.--;St. Matthew is
supposed to have suffered martyrdarn # or was
put to death by the sword, at the city of Ethi-i
opia.
St. Mark was dragged through the streets
of Alexandria, in Egypt, till he expired.
St. Luke was hanged upon an olive tree
Greece,
St. John was put in a cauldron of boiling .
oil at Rome and escaped death. He after
wards died a natural death at Ephesus - , is
Asia.
St. James the Great was beheaded at Jere:
salem,
St. James the Less was thrown from a pin:
nacle or wing of tho temple, and then beaten
to death with a fuller's club,
St, Philip was hanged tip against
at Ifierapolis, a city of Phrygia.
St. Bartholomew was flayed alive 14 coin-
wand of a barbarous king:
St. Andrew was bound to a cross; whence,
he preached to the people till he expired.
St, Thomas was ran through the body'
with a lance, near Malabar; in the East In-;
dies.
St. Jude was shot to death with arrows:
St. Simon Zelates was crucified in Persia.
St Matthias was stoned and then behead=
ed.
OYSTER CORN CAKES.-TO one quart O
green corn, rasped with a coarse grater, add
two teacups full of new milk and one of flour
—mix well together, and add two eggs well
beat up ; season with salt and peper, and bake;
upon a griddle: