TERMS OF THE GLOBE. Pea annum in advance . v. 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 ADVER,TISINO. Pour lines or less, 1 I$ 25 nSeon. '2 do. 3 do. A. rti $ 37 3 .....$ 50 One square, (12 lines,) 60 75 1 00 Two squares, • I 00 ' ' 1 50 2 00 Three squares, ' '•1 50 225 300 Over three week'and less than three mouths, 25 cents per square lot 'each insertion. 3 months. 0 months. 12 months. Six lines or less,... ........ ....$1 50 $3 00 $5 00 One square', 3 00 5 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 Miff a column, 12 05 10 00 24 00 One column, "0 00 30 00 50 00 Professional and Business not exceeding four lines, tine year, --' $3 04 Administrators' and Executors' Notices, • $1 75 Advertisements not marked with the number of inser tions desired, will be continued till forbid and charged ac 'cording to these terms; aieltd Alottn!. , (From the New York Evening Post.] NOBODY'S SONG. • • tSwift never wrote anything better' in verse than the ollowing lines from an unknown correspondent.] I'm thinking just now of Nobody, And all that Nobody's done, For I've a passion for Nobody, -That Nobody else would own; I bear the name of Nobody, Yor from Nobody I sprung ; And I sing the praise of Nobody, As Nobody, mine has song. In life's young morning Nobody To mo was tender and dear ;" And my cradle was rocked by Nobody," And Nobody was ever near; I was petted and praised by Nobody, And Nobody brought me up, And when rwas hungry, Nobody Gave me to dine or to sup. I went to school to Nobody, And Nobody taught me to rend; I played in the street with Nobody, And to Nobody ever gave heed; I recounted my tale to Nobody, For Nobody wan willing to hear And my heart it clung to Nobody, And Nobody shed a tear. IV. And when I grew older, Nobody Gave me a helping turn And by the good aid of Nobody I began my living to earn; And hence I courted Nobody, And said Nobody's I'd be, And asked to marry Nobody, -And Nobody married me Tints I trudge along with Nobody, And Nobody cheers niy life, lied I havo it love for Nobody Which Nobody bas for his wife; So here's it health to Nobody, For Nobody's now "in town," And rye a passion"for Nobody, That Nobody else 'would own. 41thresting An Old Man's Thoughts To the attentive observer,:nature present s sublime subjects for reflection. All laws seem to ha,rnionise—all ends seem to meet in the one word, " Good." God's laws are in finitely good, infinitely perfect, and the trans gressor finds them also infinitely just. lie who escapes God's wrath, so-called, is he who lives in harmony with God's laws. Let no man think he can crawl behind his own ig norance , and shield himself from perfect justice y , lie may not have heard of gravint tion;---but the falling rock will mash him.'lic may not have heard' .of arsenic, yet if intro duced into.his system, it will surely kill him. The-bite of the snake is as poisonous unto the ignorant man 'as unto the most learned. There is no escaping effects, if we shim not their cause. Let every man who suffers, examine well his own amount of knowledge, and see if the knowledge of his cause of suffering did exist within him before he suffered. If did, he is guilty of ' wilfully violating that which is good; if he did knot, let him remember that Ignorance is.a. harder master than wisdom. The - follies-of south are followed, a uccitabl V followed, by the pains of age. Could wis dom ever be gained were this not so? How can man - learn save through his own ex perience ? ' Ile may he called learned, but wisdom and: experience always go hand in hand. • Blessed. is the young man who looks at all things as the perfect work of a perfect Hand. Would the young constantly bear in mind that they are doomed to ago and death, their whole lives would be more serious, more thoughtful, and truly would they be more hopeful. The expression, doomed, must not he applied in a gloomy sense, for ,the aged man's joys are more pure and elevated; yes, far more holy than the passing things of youth can ever give. He has learned, if true unto himself, that the end of all is "Good." Even as God," He saw everything that He had made, and, be hold, it was very good." And he looks for ward daily to the time when' his own earthly end shall be "very good" in the sight of his Maker. Peacefully happy. He has over comer the desires of his animal nature and henceforth there is a spiritual treasure laid up for him, inexhaustible in its measure and ever increasing in . purity. Let no man think that God's laws only punish. They invariably reward. They are just—perfectly just. He who earns, receives his,,pay; he who does nothing, pays himself, as truly nothing as does the greatest laborer receive the richest reward. • There is no wisdom but in experience; rc member that. lie who labors not with his body; enjoys his rewarif-L-a weak frame, weak digestion, weak blood and weak thoughts ; it must be so. He who labors with his body, keeps his mind pure and exercises it.well, enjoys his reward t—a strong body, free from paina strong mind, and a strong power of thinking. • This must be so, for effect follows cause inevitably. Men rash against God's laws with great imeunity. - They •do not voluntarily hold their hands in the fire; yet how often will some—alas:too many—hold in their hands a consuming -fire which chars the very roots and fibres of their soul! -How many crave daily the intoxicating draught, which in effect almost droWns their soul! We are weak, though at times we feel so strong. Our de sires are good' if rightly governed; and let us not blame our Maker for the good penalty he has placed upon their violation. Se'-' It appears from a report in circula tion, that it is very unpleasant to be born in a certain house in Chest43r county: Since the year 1794; there have been five executions for capital offences-in that county. Edward Williams, who was hanged in 1839, and George Pharoah, who was executed in 1851, were -both horn in a.•house which stands about - a mile from West'Chester. Samuel In " Tana formerly of Greensburg, who was re cently hung at Rock Island, Illinois, for the murder of his wife, also first saw the • light in this. unlucky house. • WILLIAM LEWIS, VOL, XIII. My Cruelty to my Rela:tivis. I had an aunt coming to visit me for the first time since my , marriage, and I- don't know what evil genius prompted the wicked ness (I acknowledge, with tears in my eyes, that it was such,) which I perpetrated to wards my wife and my ancient relative. "My dear," said I to my wife on the day before my aunt's arrival, " you know my Aunt Mary is coming to-morrow ; well, I for got to Mention a rather annoying circumstance with regard to her. She's very deaf ; and, although' she can hear my voice, to which she is accustomed, in its ordinary tones, yet you will be obliged to speak extremely loud in oilier to be heard. It will be rather inconve nient, but I know you will do everything in your power to make her stay agreeable." Mrs. S. announced her determination to make herself heard, if possible. I then went to John Thomas, who loves a joke as well as any person I know of, told him to be at my house 4t six P. M., on the following evening, - and felt comparatively nappy I Went to the railrOad station with a car riage, the next evening, and when I was on my way home I said : "My dear aunt, there is one rather annoying infirmity that Amelia has, which I forgot to mention before. She's very deaf; and, altliOugh she can hear my voice, to which she is accustomed, in its ordi nary tones, yet you will be obliged to speak extremely loud. in order to be heard. I'm sorry for it." Aunt Mary, in the goodness of her heart, protested that she rather liked speaking loud, and to do so would afford her great pleasure. The carriage drove up—on the steps wits my wife—at the window was John Thomas, with a face as utterly solemn as if he had bu ried all his relatives that afternoon. I handed out my aunt—she ascended the steps. " I am delighted to see you," shrieked my wife, and the policeman on the opposite side of the street started, and my aunt nearly fell down the steps. " Kiss me, my dear," howled my aunt ; and the hall lamp clattered, and the windows shook as with fever and ague. I looked at the window, John had disappeared. Human nature could stand it no longer. I poked my head into the carriage, and went into strong convulsions. When I entered the parlor my wife was helping Aunt Mary to take off her bonnet and cape, and there sat John, with his face of woe. Suddenly, " Did you have a pleasant jour ney ?" went off my wife, like- a pistol, and. John Thomas rather jumped to his feet." " Rather dusty," was the response, in a war whoop; and so the conversation contin ued. The neighbors for streets around must have heard it ; when I was in the third story of the building, I heard every word plainly. In the course of the evening, my aunt took occasion to say to me— " How loud your wife speaks! Don't it hurt her ?" .I told. her all deaf persons talked loudly, and that my wife, being used to it, was not affected by the exertion, and that Aunt Mary was-getting along very nicely with her. Presently, my wife said, softly, "Alf., how very loud your aunt talks." " Yes," said I, " all deaf persons do.— You're getting along with her finely ; she hears every word you say." And 1 rather think she did. Elated by their success at being understood, they went at it, hammer and tongs, till every thing on. the mantel-piece clattered again, and I was seriously afraid of a crowd collecting in front of the house. But the end was near. My aunt, being of an investigating turn of mind; was desirous of finding out whether the exertion of talk ing so loud was not injurious to my wife. 'So said she, in an unearthly hoot—for her voice was not as musical as it was -when she was young, "Doesn't talking so loud strain your lungs ?" "Itls an exertion," shrieked my wife. " Then why do you do it?" was the answer ing scream. " Because,—because,—you can't hear if I don't," squealed my wife. "Whati" said my aunt, fairly rivalling a railroad whistle, this tune. I - began to think it time to evacuate the premises ; and, looking round and seeing John gone, I stepped into the back parlor, and there he lay flat on his back, with his feet at a right angle to his body, rolling from side to side, with his fists poked into his ribs, and a most agonized expression of counten ance, but not uttering a Sound. I immediately and involuntarily assumed a similar attitude, and I think that, from the relative position of our boots and heads, and our attempts to restrain our laughter, apo plexy must have inevitably ensued, if a hor rible groan, which John gave vent to, in. his endeavor to repress his risibility, had not be trayed our hiding place. In rushed my wife and aunt, who, by this time, comprehended the joke; and such a scolding as I then got, I never got before, and I hope never to get again. I know not what the end would have been, if John, in his endeavors to appear respect ful and sympathetic, had not given vent to such a diabolical noise, sometimes between a groan and a horse laugh, that all gravity was upset, and we screamed in concert. BAROMETER.—The Tribune gives the fol lowing method for constructing ono at a cost of only a few cents : " Dissolve some camphor in alcohol and throw into the solution some soda; the cam phor will be precipitated in snowy flakes ; collect these by passing the mixture through a filter, and put them in. a vial with clear alcohol, in 'which as much camphor as it would take has been dissolved. Cork it, place it where it will not be disturbed, ex amine it every morning and night." kErßore pleasing than dew-drops that sparkle upon the roses, are tears that pity gathers upon the cheek of beauty. Less Known Reasons for Well Known • Truths. The longer the beam of a ploW, the less power is required to draw the plow; because the beam is a lever, through which the poiver is exerted, and, by extending the beam the long,arm of the lever is lengthened, and the leverage is thereby increased. The same is true of inany other implenients and toolS— such as spades, pitchforks, wheelbarrows, planes, Screw-drivers, augers, gimlets, &c. The greater the diameter of the wheels of a carriage, the less power it requires to over come the inequalities of a road; both be cause the leverage is increased by lengthen ing the .spokes or radii of the wheels, which are the long arnis of the levers, whereby-the power is exerted, and because the steepness or abruptness of the obstructions presented to the wheels is lessened by the greater cir cumference of the. wheels. - But there is a near limitcto thnsize of the wheels, beyond which no advantage is gained by increasing. For when .the axles, of the wheels become higher thauthe point of draught on the ani mal, a portion of the power exerted merely adds to the weight, or pressure, of the car riage upon'the ground; and the portion thus lost increases with , the increased height of the axle above the horizontal line of draught. Besides, the increasing weight of enlarged wheels soon more than counteracts the ad vantages gained by increasing their diameter. More carriages meet than overtake a pe destrian, on a road ; simply because the length of road offering the opportunity to meet, is the sum of the distance passed over by the opposite travellers, while the length of road offering the opportunity to overtake, is only the difference of the distance passed over by the, pedestrian and the drivers. The chances in the one case aro reckoned by the sun, and in the other - case by the dVereitee of the speed, of the walker and the rider. The breezes in - the groves, on a still day, are.explained by .the trunks, branches, and leaves of the trees offering the obstruction of their opposing, surface to whatever motion the air may have,, thereby simply causing a greatet' velocity through the- Splices between them. :Winds produce cold in several ways. The act of blowing . implies the descent upon, and motion -over the earth, of colder air i to occupy the, room of that which -it displaces. It also increases, the evaporation of moisture from the earth, and thus conveys away consider able heat. This increased evaporation, and the mixture of warm and cold air, usually produce a condensation of vapors in the at mosphere ; hence the formation of clouds, and -the consequent detention of_the heat brought by the rays of the sun. And whenever air in motion is colder than the earth, or any ,bodies - with which-it comes in contact, a por tion of their heat is imparted to the air. " All signs of rain fail in a dry time ;" " wet begets more wet." There is real phi losophy in these proverbs. In .a dry time, comparatively little evaporation can take place from the parched earth, and the atmos phere becomes- but slowly charged with moisture—the source of rain. In a wet time evaporation goes on rapidly from the satura ted earth, and soon overcharges the atmos phere with moisture. The cold moderates immediately premed ing a fall of snow; because the vapor in the atmosphere, in the act of congealing into snow, parts with many degrees of heat, which before were latent, and which aro at once imparted to the surrounding atmosphere. The same is true in respect to the conden sation of vapor in a rain; but the amount of latent heat thereby made sensible is much less than in the act of freezing, and it is generally compensated by the loss of beat in the evaporation taken place from the earth after the rain falls. During the fall both of rain and snow, the atmosphere usually be comes gradually colder because the source of heat derived from the sunshine is, for the time, cut off, and therefore does not supply the loss by evaporation and radiation from the earth. Rain and snow are also -usually accompanied by wind, a consumer of heat. It is less tiresome to walk than. to stand still a given length of time ; .for in- walking, each set of Muscles is resting half of the time, but when standing still, the muscles are con tinually exerted. The exertions of the mus cles in the effort of walking is not twice as great as in standing still ; hence, the former is not equal to the double continuation of the latter. A considerable quantity of food, taken at one time, into the stomach, is more readily digested than a very small quantity; be cause, in the former case, the food coming into - contact with the entire inner surface of the stomach, excites the action of the organ, and occasions the secretion of gastric fluid ordinarily sufficient for digesting; out in the latter case there is not enough food in the stomach to excite its action. This accounts for the fact often affording a, matter of sur prise, that persons are 'frequently made very ill by taking into the stomach a very small quantity of food, when it is remarked that the same persons have frequently taken much larger quantities of the same kinds of food with impunity. The fur or hair of an animal effectually protects it from cold, not so much by cover ing the body and. shutting in the heat, as by preventing the. circulation of air around it, so that the heat cannot be rapidly convoyed away. And the arrangement of hairs per pendicularly, or nearly so„ on the surface of the body, by the law of reflection, permits the radiation of but very little heat from the body. The human system, in its vital or muscular power, is very - analogous to an electric ma chine. Dampness dispels the force of both, apparently in the same way. Hence the de bilitating effect of hot weather, caused prin cipally by excessive perspiration.. The quantity of perspiration can be greatly less ened by refraining from unnecessary drink ing. Any one can soon school himself to the requirement of several times less of liquid than he is usually accustomed to drink, by taking only a, small quantity at once, and re peating it only as often as thirst is folt.--The reit and the Lever. HUNTINGDON, PA., SEPTEMBER 9, 1857. -PERSEVERE.- Perseverance Under:Difficulties How frequently do we find, in reviewing the past, that what we once regarded as great afflictions were really great blessings! Mer cy is often disguised in the formS of tempta tion, trial, danger; and disaster.. Difficulties which beset our pathway of' life are essential to develop our powers. Obstacles that seem insurmountable call out the latent energies of the mind, and losses and misfortunes are often the only means which can teach us the great truths, a knowledge of which is' indis pensable to our full maturity and highest use fulness. - The child who travels up to manhood on an even road, who' has always ' sailed on smooth waters, 'and - who . never has :been taught to "buffet the waves of outrageous for= tune, is within hiniself passive and power less. He has no resources when the temp ests of life come upon him; he has no cour age nor self sustaining energy to resist the winds of adversity: Like a ripe which . has groWn up in a dark place; secluded' alike from sunshine and storm, he may be fair and comely, but he is frail and useless: Some years since, as we were looking around for a porter to take a basket of fruit —a bushel of blackberries—from the market to our "old folks at home," a tall, 'awkward, green looking Yankee boy, of sixteen or eighteen summers, solicited the job. 'We ob jected to employing 'hid', aiid assigned two reasons; the burden was too great for him to carry by hand, and we could not afford to pay him the value of such' services. The cartman would take it along for a shilling. Ile 'would not be put' off so. Ile would carry it for'a shilling, and be very thankful for the privilege! This brought matters to an explanation. He had just come to town. The sharpers had. outwitted. him, and he had lost all has money. But instead of bellowing about it like a great calf, or blubbering like a" greater booby, or begging around like a JohnVainaman, he went to work like a man. He dienot banter about wages but took what was 'offered. He shouldered our basket, drudged a full mile through the hot sun and dusty streets, sweating enough to cure an or dinary rheumatism, received his pay, ".ex pressed his gratitue, as he had agreed to do,- and returned to his post. It is needless -to Write that boy's history any farther. Ile has -"come to something," or will. All the help he requires is " letting alone severely," "Another ease worth recording occurred a few days since. A young Kontlickian, who had started froth Louis 'or this city, not long since, was robbed at Buffalo of all his money and his baggage check; he started then to walk the balance of his journey, but his shoes gave out, and he took his chance to work his way on a freight train of the Erie Road. Here his hat blew off and was lost, and at Ilor nellsville his coat was stolen. 'When laSt seen he was tending hitherward, on foot, nearly naked, but very determined. Our Yankee friend has found his equal.— Kentucky is bound to make his mark in due time. Meanwhile we commend these exam ples to all young men as illustrations of the maxim that, perseverance under difficulties is the way to make difficulties subservient to our best good hereafter.—[Life Illustra ted. Disobedient, Wilful, Lawless Children. No form in which human depravity, vice or folly usually present themselves, is to us more repulsive, than that which meets our eyo when we accidentally witness some in stance of stubborn disobedience, and wilful ness in a young person of either sex. Hap pily girls are not so often of this repulsive character as boys, or else their manifesta tions of it are a little less open, bold, or vio lent. This most disagreeable form of human de pravity—this spirit of disobedience and dis regard of all authority,' is by no means un common. Every reader of this can recall some strikingly repulsive instance of it, we may presume. Ask the teachers of our common schools, and they will ..testify that this spirit of insubordination and lawless ness is a marked or prominent feature in the character of many boys ; and those who have " boarded round," and have witnessed the unveiled scenes of domestic life in the families whence their pupils came, have in formed us that in many families in which they have temporarily boarded, they have been the unwilling witnesses of painful strugglesbetween mothers and their chil dren: the former ordering, threatening, scold ing, fuming, and sometimes inflicting pas sionate blows, and the latter sullenly disre garding all commands, whether enforced by coaxing or threatening, and finally coming off conquerors by a silent stubbornness, or an explosive "I dont want to j " or "No, I won't.' How comes it to pass that the homes and the schools and the social intercourse of the world, aro so infested with this disposition to rebel against the authority of parents and teachers and others, and to insist stubbornly on one's own will and one's own way? The root of. this noisome, pestilential weed is to be found in the foolish fondness and unwise indulgences of mothers while their children are yet very . young. Requests and com mands are given very frequently without being enforced,. The child discovers that it may do just as it pleases with perfect impu nity, and this spirit - of doing its own will, and having its own way, grows with the days, and months, and years, in which it finds occasions of indulgence. If the above is a most-frightful cause of wilfulness and stubborn disobedience in children, then the mode of cure or prevention. is manifest. Let the parent give no com mands which she does not intend to enforce. Let the first manifestations of a spirit of re sistance or disobedience be sternly; firmly, but not passionately . subdued. Never let a. child conquer, for it will not cease , to crave for similar victories. Let your commands be wise and right; and never tolerate the slightest disobedience. A. B. A.—Country Gentromait. Young man, speak kindly to your mother, and courteously, tenderly of her. But a lit tle time, and you shall see her no more for ever. Her eye is dim,.her form is bent, and her shadoW falls toward the grave. Others may love you fondly; bUt never again while time is yours, shall any one's love be to you as that of your old, trembling, weakened mother has been. Through helpless infancy her throbbing breast was your safe protection and support; in wayward, testy boyhood, she bore patiently with your thoughtless rudeness; she pursued you safely through a legion of ills and mala dies. ffer hand bathed your, burning brow, or moistened your parched lips ; her eyes light ed up the darkness of nightly 'vigils, watch ing sleepless 'by your side as none but her could watch. 0, speak not her name lightly, for you cannot live so many years as would suffice to thank her fully. 'Thiough reckless and impatient youth, she is your counsellor and. solace. To a bright manhood she guides your steps to improvement ; nor ever for sakes nor forgets. Speak gently, then, and reverently of, your mother; and when you, too, shall• be - old, it shall in some degree lighten the remorse which shall be yours for other sins, to know that never wantonly. have you outraged the respect due to your aged. mother. We notice in many of Our exchange's the curious application of the word "luck" and "lucky" which to the thinker must at once afford, 'by such ridiculous _application, food for merriment. Examples of the followinc , kind have recently drawn our attention to this subject: In New Orleans a man fell from, the mast of a vessel into the river, was drowned, and carried home when his widow exclaimed : " Oh, wasn't be lucky in not breaking his neck, and making an ugly corpse of him self!" We see in another Paper that a Mr. White, living in Venice, Pa., was recently murdered - in his own bed by some who wished to get his money. The editor adds, that " luckily, Mr. White deposited his mon ey in the bank the day before;" so Mr. White was lucky in losing nothing - but his life. . In Ohio a house was not long ago set fire to, adn a Mrs. Roberts consumed among the ruins while asleep. Mr. Roberts was away from home that-nig,ht, and the reporter says very nitifely, "lucky - for Mr. It. be did not sleep at home that night, for then he might have further .cause of sorrow by sharing the fate of Ms poor lady." We find another instance of a negro while taking home his fashionable mistress' new bonnet, gets run over and killed. The bon net is uninjured, and the lady exclaims, " well, it is lucky he saved my new bonnet." The bonnet was worth about $2O, and the negro who was killed was worth perhaps $OO. Tho following is to good to by lost. We clip it 'from an exchange paper, and respect fully call the attention to it of certain per sons - who feel disposed to spread in. the 'newspaper line: A young man who ardently desired - wealth, was visited by his Satanic majesty, who tempted him to promise his soul for eternity, if he could bo supplied on this earth with ap. the - money he could use. • The bargain was coneluded—tho devil was to supply the money, and was at last to have the soul, un less the young man could spend more money than the devil could furnish. Years passed away—the man married, was extravagant in his living, built palaces, speculated widely— lost and gave away fortunes, and yet his cof fers were always full. He turned politician, and bribed his way to power and fame, with out reducing his pile' of gold. He became filibuster,' and fitted out ships and ar mies, but, his banker honored all his drafts. Ho went to St. Paul to live, and paid the usual rates of interest for 'all the money ho could borrow, but though they devil made wry faces when he came to pay the bills, yet they were all paid. One expedient after another failed—the devil counted the time, only two years, that ho must wait for the soul, and mocked the efforts of the despair ing man. One more trial was resolved upon —the man started a newspaper ! The devil growled at the bill at the end of the first quarter, was savage in six months, melan choly in nine, and broke, "dead broke," at the end of the year. .So the newspaper went down, but the soul was saved. If the dignity of things may he measured by their importance to mankind, there is nothing, perhaps, which can rank above the mechanical arts. In fact they maybe called the lever, the fulcrum and the power which moves the world. They do not want the "whereupon to stand," as did Archimides; they have a sufficient foundation in them selves. What gives to civilized. nations their supe riority over the savage? It is chiefly - me chanic arts. By them the beautiful and con venient mansion is substituted for the rude and uncomfortable. hut; and "purple and fine linen" supply the wardrobe in place of the skins of wild animals. They are the foundation of nearly all the improvements and comforts of life, and further, we may say the glory and grandeur of the world. By them the farmers plough the land, and by thorn the mariner ploughs the ocean—the monarch is adorned with his crown 'and the peasant is clad , in comfortable. garments; by them the table is spread, the bed is decked, and the parlor is - furnished. To them the. poet owes the perpetuationof.his fame. Ho mer sings and Caesar triumphs in all ages.— Through them we are instructed by the wis dom of Plato, and charmed by the- eloquence of Cicero. Through them we admire the Jus tice of Aristides and the.heroism of Leonidas. Editor and Proprietor. Speak Kindly to your Mother. Ideas of Luck Row the Devil lost. The Mechanic. , Setting Timothy Fieldsi The following sensible and praeticadired= tions for setting timothy fields date find iii the American. Farmer; and as the in.f4ima tion is just now seasonable, we transfer it td our columns with our full endorseritent z . , If you assuresetting a oth meadow we wish to you of this tim triith y :—it is of waste of time, labor and money; to itttetnpt to grow it on any but a fertile soil; Without heavy manuring; This your 0i4944 sense will tell you is the only rdtinnal view of the subject. A meadow sot in timothy, is des ; tined to remain in that grass for, say, five years at least: It is said to be a seven yearti grass, but as mdadows ,are -treated.-.in.car country they never last that long: . If, how-. : ever, they were; every' second year; to dressed and harrowed, they not only last during o• the lonest period named, but continue afford profitable crops of grass:— But, if unaided by such biennial treatment; as all its annual products areearried off, and each abstracts from the earth large - portions of its organic and inorganic constituents, thci soil becomes deteriorated, unable to sustain a heavy growth of vegetation, and, as a con= sequence, the great body of the plants, for want-of food, die out. NO. 12. As TO THE SOIL.-A moist clay loam• is best adaptedto the culture of timothy; thong it will grow on any fertile loamy soil wbere in there are limo and potash.—On porous, gravelly, or sandy soils, the plant does not thrive well. • On a stiff, dry red clay we hava had it to grow well and, produce luxuriant . crops, but we took especial pains in manuring and preparing the soil for the reception o . f the seed, and in top-dressing it afterwards. PREPARATION OF TELE SOIL.—The had ill* tended for a timothy meadow unless it be naturally 'very fertile, should •be generously manured, plowed deep, and thoroughly put; verised by rolling and harrowing, and agaid rolling. QUANTITIES OF SEED PER ACRE.—Less than one peck per. acre should never be sown; and were we setting a timothy meadow, we should sow 1 pecks to the acre. SEEDING.—The seed musty be equally dis tributed by a careful hand, or a machines We prefer the latter mode. As the seed is . sown, harrow them in with a light garden or seed harrow, and then roll. Timm or SErnmc..—From. 20th of August till the 10th of September. in offering prizes for animals at agricul= tural meetings, distinction should be made between those smothered iiffat, by which the form is totally concealed, and those whose proportions are visible, though well covered with wholesome meat. if farmers arc to be benefitted by periodical gatherings and-exhi bitions of stock, attention must be paid to certain rules by which information can be obtained as to the expenses of feeding, when it will be proved tliatdisgusting looking pigs• which cannot stand, but require propping up to eat, are not worth their 'keep,' that is, will not remunerate the agriculturist, who has to live upon his land, and from the pro duce. Animals are required with the Tomer' of producing weight in a short time, on. the' ordinary food supplied by the farm, and when in fine healthy condition affording a; fair return for expense incurred.— Ohio Par- The force of these remarks, we presume' could be appreciated by the importer of this fine bull, that died in the street in Philadel phia, a Id* 'Weeks ago, soon after leaving the boat, having cost the owner $lBOO up to that time. Cause—excessive burden of -fat—tog much for our hot summer weather. We are sorry to see the girls of the present day have such a tendency to utter worthless ness—groming up anxious to become more' fashionable than good, more anxious to culti vate their heels than their heads, and to en circle their legs with whalebone rather than the brow with wreaths of love, - kindness and' beauty. As a general thing, those who are handsome think they are lovely. Far from it., When we, years gone, took one to be Mrs. P., girls were girls. It was fun to go a dozen miles afoot with mud knee deep . to Ben them, as - you were sure to find the clear girls —nature instead of art. But now it is differ ent The dentist supplies the teeth, " Uncle Ned" the cotton, some optician the eyes, and: a skillful mechanic the legs and arms; an ar tist furnishes paint, a Yankee - the hoops,• some "French Milliner" gets up artificial maternal founts, and the very devil robs him self to give them a disposition to lie, tattle,. gossip, make mischief, and.kick up all sorts of bobberies among respectable people gen erally. Vanity of vanities, saith the preach er. We love the girls when they act like' girls, ,but this counterfeit article now being• palmed off on fashionable society is an intol- erable humbug.- But the girls now-a-days• arc neither fit for wives, nor do they know enough for mothers. FIRE PROOF LADIES DiESSES.—Within very short time two youner''' ladies have been' burnt to death, owing to their light muslin dresses catching fire from a lucifer match-,•• one in London, the other at Colchester. It, ought to be generally known that all ladies' dresses may be made fire-proof at a mere' nominal cost, by steeping them, or the linen or cotton used in making them, in a diluted' solution of chloride of mne. We have seen the very finest eambrie so prepared held in flame of a candle; and charred to dust, with- . out the least flame; and we have been inform- . ed that since Clara Webster, a dancer, was burnt to death, from her clothes catching fire , ' on the stage, the muslin dresses of all the' dancers at the best theatres are made fire proof. Our manufactures should take the' hint.—Medical A WARNING.—The Reading Gazette says' it is now reduced to a, certainty that cholera morbus, cholera infantum, and diarrhoea exist in the city, and that, too, to a considerable extent, every physician having more or less on hand. We do not say this for the purpose' of creating any alarm-among the timid, but eve mention the fact so that people may be placed upon their guard. Every man who' has the least regard for his own - health and . the henlar•of his neighbor, shook' at once' see to his premises, and remove any filth' that may have accumulated in his yard. eds. ,- pools and gutters should be limed- Copperas'-: is a good disinfecting agent for privies or ,sut-' tern, and can be pure/Zed for a mere trifle.' Chloride of lime sprinkled in cellars, drains' and hydrant gutters,pnrifres everything font it comes in contact with.- Remember the ev erlasting truth of the adage that "an onueee' of prevention is worth-a pound of cure," , se-Mertgages 'eio at one• time a favor- - ite investment, but no* there is little ,or' - my demand for there. They cannot be. disposed or for less than-ten per cent:•discouut=a-hervi shave., Agricultural Prizes. The gills of the present day. El