TEEMS OF THE GLOBE.
Per annum in advance
&X months
Tree months
A failure to notify a discontinuance at the expiration of
the terui.eubscribed for will bo considered a now engage•
moat.
TERMS OF ADVERTISING
1 insertion. 2 do. 3 do.
pour lines or 1e55,......... .... ;. $ 25 $ 37 . 3 ,4 $ 50
One square, (12 lines,) 50 ...... ... 75 100
Two squares, 1 00 1 50 2 00
Three squares, 1 50 2 25 3 00
Over, three week and less than three months, 25 cents
per square for each insertion.
3 months. 0 months. 12 months.
~..$1 50 .$3 00 $5 00
3 00 5 00 7 00
5 00 8 00 10 00
7 00 .10 00 15 00
Six linefi or aces,...
Ono, square,
Two 5quare5,........
Three squates,
Four squares, 9 00 13 00 20 00
Half a column, 12 00 16 00 21 00
One column, ` , O 00 30 00 50 00
- Professional and 13usine5s Cards not exceeding four lines,
'ono year $3 00
A d ministrators' and Executors' Notices, ' $1 75
Advertisements not marked with the number of inser
tions desired, will be continued till forbid and charged uc
ording to these terms.
flt.ertsting Ntistellanv.
Stick to your Business.
There is nothing which should be more fre
quently impressed upon the minds of young
men than the importance of steadily pursu
ing some one business. The frequent chang
ing from ono employment to another is ono
of the most common errors committed, and
to it may be traced more than half the fail
'urea of men in business, and much of the
discontent and disappointments that render
life uncomfortable. It is a very common
thing for a man to become dissatisfied with
his business, and to desire to change it for
some other, and what seems to him will prove
a more lucrative employment ; but in nine
cases out of ten it is a mistake. Look round
you, and you will find abundant verification
pf our assertion.
Here is a young man who commenced life
as a mechanic, but for some cause imagined
that he ought to have been a doctor; and after
a hasty shallow preparation has taken up the
saddle bags only to find that work is still
work, and that his patients are no more pro
fitable than his work-bench, and the occupa
tion not a bid► more agreeable.
Here are two young clerks; one of them is
content, when his first term of service is over,
to continue a clerk until he has money enough
to commence business on his own account;
'the other can't wait, but starts off without
capital and with a limited experience, and
brings up after_a few years in a court of in
solvency, while his former comrade, by patient
perseverance, comes out at last with a for
tune.
That young lawyer who becomes dishearten
ed. because briefs and cases did'nt crowd upon
him while he was yet redolent of calf-bound
volumes, and had small use for red tape, who
concluded that he had mistaken his calling,
and so plunged into politics, finally settled
.down into the character of a meddling petti
fogger, scrambling for his daily bread.
There is an honest farmer who has toiled
a few years, got his farm paid for, but does
not grow rich very rapidly, as much for lack
of contentment mingled with his industry as
auything„ though he is not aware of it—he
hears the wonderful stories of California, and
how fortunes may be had for the trouble of
picking them up, mortgages his farm to raise
money, goes to the land of gold, and after
months of hard toil, comes home .to begin
again at the bottom of the hill for a more
weary and. less successful climbing up again.
Mark the men in every community who are
- notorious for ability and equally notorious-for
never getting ahead, and you will usually
find them to be those who never stick to one
business long, but are always forsaking their
occupation just when it begins to be profita
ble.
Young man, stick to your business. It
may be that you have mistaken your calling
—if so, find it out as quickly as possible and.
-change it ; but don't let any uneasy desires
to get along fast, or a dishonest calling, lead
-"j011 to abandon it. Have some honest occu
pation, and there stick to it; if you are stick
mg type, stick away at them ; if you are sell
ing oysters, keep on selling them ;; if you are
at the law, hold fast to that profession—pur
sue the business you have chosen, persistent
ly, industriously, and hopefully; if there is
anything in you it will appear and turn to ac
count in that as well, or better, than in any
other calling—only if you are a loafer, for
sake that line of life as speedily as possible,
for the longer you stick to it the worse it will
stick to you.—Hunt's Merchants' Magazine.
Fruits of Civility.
Civility costs nothing, and considering it
pays its way handsomely in all companies, to
say nothing of occasional chance advantages,
it is a marvel that it is not more common—
that it is not a universal virtue. Within a
few years, a couple of gentlemen, one of
them was a foreigner, visited the various.-lo
comotive workshops of Philadelphia. They
called at the most prominent one first, stated
their wishes to look through the establish
ment, and made some inquiries _of a more
specific character. _ They were shown through
the establishment in a very indifferent man
ner, and no special pains were taken to give
them any information beyond what their in
quiries drew forth. The same results follow
ed their visits to the several larger establish
ments. By soLne means they were induced
to call on one of a third or fourth-rate char
acter. The owner was a workman of limi
ted means; but on the application of the
strangers, his natural urbanity of manner
nrompted him not only to show all that he
had, but to enter into a detailed . explanation
of the, working of his establishment, and of
the vet , superior manner in which he could
condudt his factory, if additional facilities of
capital were afforded him. The gentlemen
left him, not only favorably impressed tow
ards him, but with the feeling that he thor
oughly understood his business.
Within a year he was -surprised with an
invitation to St.. Petersburg. The result was
his locorriotive establishment was moved there
bodily. It was the agent of the Czar who
had called on him in company with an Amer
ican citizen. He has recently returned, hav
ing accumulated a largo fortune, and still re
ceives from his Russian workshops about a
hundred thousand dollars a year. He invests
his money in real estate, and .has already
foundation for the largest fortune
of any private : individual in Philadelphia,
and all the result of civility to a couple of
strangers.--Hall's Tour2zal - qf Health.
- A Goon EXAMPLE.---Andrew Johnson, just
elected to the U. S. Senate from Tennessee,
had a very obscure origin and no educational
advantages. After he married, his wife taught
him hisletters, and while he prosecuted his
calling as a journeyman, tailor, to support his
family, he acquired the. simplest rudiments
of education. He served in the 11. S'. House
of Representatives several years. ago, and
was recently Governor of Tennessee.
•
Attir Industry brings its reward.
$1 50
75
50
WILLIAM LEWIS,
VOL. XIII.
The way to Collect a Bill.
Old Squire Tobin was a slow walker but
slower pay. Blessed with abundant means
he was considered ultimately good for any
debt he might contract, but he had contracted
a habit of holding on to his money, until
forced by extra opportunity to fork over.
"There goes the old Squire," . said Brown
the merchant; "I've had a bill of five dollars
and fifty cents against him for eighteen
months, and if I have asked him once for it
I have done so twenty times; but ho has
either not got with him, or he will call to
morrow, or, if not in .a good . humor, he will
swear like a trooper, at my impudence at
dunning him at unseasonable times.
Now there was one Joe Harkins, a wag
gish sort of a fellow, who heard the complaint
of merchant Brown, and resolved upon some
fun.
"Come, now, Brown," said Joe, "what
will you bet I can't get he money from the
old Squire before he gets home?"
"A new hat," said Brown. •
"Enough said," said Joe.
While Brown was hunting the bill, Joe
disguised himself in a striped blanket and
slouched hat. Thus equipped, with the bil
in his hand he took after the squire.
" Hello, is your name Squire Tobin ?"
" Yes," answered the squire with a snarl,
" what is that to you ?"
"I have a, little bill, sir—collecting for
merchant Brown, sir."
" Merchant Brown can go to thunder, sir,"
said the Squire, " I've got no money for him;
you must call again."
Joe bowed politely, slipped down the alley
just in time to head the Squire at the nest
corner.
" Oh, sir," said. Joe, stopping suddenly,
" is your name Tobin ?"
"Tobin, sir, is my name."
" Here is a little bill, sir, from merchant
Brown."
"Zounds ! sir," replied the Squire,
"Didn't I meet you just around the cor-
ncr?"
" Meet me?" replied Joe, " guess it was
B—, another of Brown's collectors."
" Then I suppose merchant Brown has two
red striped collectors dogging my steps; I
won't pay it, sir, to day, begone ?" The old
Squire, as ho said this, brought down his
stick hard upon the pavement and toddled
on.
Joe, nothing daunted, took advantage of
another alley, and by a rapid movement in a
few minutes placed himself once more in
front of the Squire. The old man's bile was
making him mutter and growl as he walked
along, and now and then giving point to his
anger, by very emphatic knocks of his cane
on the sidewalk. When within about twenty
feet of each other, the old Squire espied his
friend once more in front. Squire Tobin
stopped—and raising his cane exclaimed:
You infernal insolent puppy, what do you
mean?"
Joe, affecting great astonishment, checked
up within a safe distance, and replied :
Mean, sir ? You surprise me, sir ; I don't
know you,-sir."
" Ain't you merchant Brown's collector
that dunned me five minutes ago ?"
" Me, sir ?" replied Joe, .` I am one of mer
chant Brown's collectors, to be sure ; but I
don't know you, sir."
" My name is Tobin, sir," rejoined the ir
ritated Squire, " and you look like the fellow
that stopped me twice before."
" Impossible ! sir," replied Joe, "it must
have been some other of merchant Brown's
collectors. You see, sir, there are forty of
us, all wrapped in red striped blankets—and,
by the by, Mr. Tobin, I think I have a
small bill against you."
- " Forty red striped collectors, and each
one after me," ejaculated the Squire. Darn
me, I must put a stop to this ; they will all
overtake me before I reach home." Saying
which, he took out his wallet and quietly set,
tied merchant Brown's bill of tis 50.
Joe thanked the Squire and moved off;
but as the Squire had another square to travel
before reaching home, Joe could not resist
the temptation to head him off just once
more. He accordingly made another circuit,
and came in collision with the angry old man
ero he was noticed.
• Zounds zounds ! stranger," vociferated.
the Squire. " What ." Here he
caught sight of the red striped blanket, as
Joe disengaging himself from the old man,
took to his heels. Squire Tobin's cudgel was
fiercely hurled. after Joe, accompanied with
a hearty curse upon merchant Brown and
his forty collectors in red striped. blank
ets..
It is unnecessary to say, that Joe Harkins
was seen nest day topped off with a bran
new hat.
A countryman one day returning from the
city took home with him five of the finest
peaches one could possibly desire to see, and
as his children had never beheld the fruit be
fore, they rejoiced over them exceedingly,
calling them the fine apples with the rosy
cheeks, soft, plum-like skins. The father di
vided them among his four children, and re-
tained one' for their mother. In the evening
ere the children had retired to their chamber,
the father questioned them by asking:—
" How do you like the soft rosy apples?"
"Very much indeed, dear father," said the
oldest boy; it is a beautiful fruit, so acid, and
yet so nice and soft to the taste; I have care
fully preserved a, stone, that I may. cultivate
a tree."
" Bright and travely done," said the fath
er; "that speaks for regarding the future with
care, and it is becommg in a young husband
man."
"I have.eaten mine and thrown the stone
away," said the youngest, "besides which
mother ga've me half of her's. 01 it tasted
so sweet and melting in my mouth."
"Indeed!" answered his father," thou hest
not acted prudently. However, it was very
natural and childlike, and displays wisdom
enough for your years:"
"I have picked up the stone," said the sec
ond ene, "which my little brothel- threw
A. Little German Story
away, cracked it, and eaten the kernal; it
was as sweet as a nut to the taste; my peach
I have sold for so much money that when I
go to the city I can buy twelve of them."
.•
The parent shook his head reprovingly,
saying, "beware, my boy of avarice. Pru
dence is all very well, but such conduct as
yours is unchildlike and unnatural. Heaven
guard thee, my child, from the fate of a mi
ser. And you, Edmund?" asked the father
returning to his son, who frankly and openly
replied:
have given my peach to the son of our
neighbor, the sick George, who has had the
fever. He would not take it, so I left it on
the bed, and I have just come away."
"Now," said the father, "who has done the
best with his peach?"
"Brother Edmund!" the three exclaimed
aloud, "brother Edmund!"
Edmund was still and silent, and his
mother kissed him with tears of joy in her
eyes.
An Englishman - was bragging of the speed
on English Railroads to a Yankee traveler
seated at his side on one of the cars of a "fast
train," in England. The engine bell was
rung as the train neared a station. It .sug
gested to the Yankee an opportunity of " ta
king down" his companion " a peg or two."
"What's that noise ?" innocently inquired
the Yankee.
"We are approaching a town," said the
Englishman. "They have to commence ring
ing about ten miles before they get to a sta
tion, or else the train would run by it before
the bell could be heard Wonderful, isn't
it? I suppose you havn't invented . engine
bells yet ?"
"Well, ye's," replied the Yankee, " we're
got bells but can't use them on our railroads.
We run so tarnal fast that the train always
keeps ahead of the sound. No use whatever;
the sound never reaches the village till after
the train gets by."
" Indeed !" exclaimed the Englishman.
" Fact I" said the Yankee ; " had to give
up bells. Then we tried steam whistles, but
they would'nt either. I was on a locomotive
when the whistle was tried. We were going
at a tremendous rate—hurricanes were no
whar—and I had to hold my . hair on. We
saw a two-horse wagOn crossing the track,
about five miles ahead, and the engineer let
the whistle on screeching like a trooper. It
screamed awfully but it wasn't no use. The
next thing I knew, I was picking myself out
of a pond by the road side, and the fragments
of the locomotive, dead horses, and broken
wagon, and dead engineer, lying beside me.
Just then the whistle come along mixed up
with some frightful oath that I heard the en
gineer use when he first saw the horses. Poor
fellow, he was dead before his voice got to
him !"
" After that we tried lights," supposing
these would travel faster than sound. We
got some so strong that the chickens waked
up all along the road supposing it was morn
ing. But the locomotive kept ahead of it
still, and was in the darkness, with the light
close behind it. The inhabitants petitioned
against it ; they could not sleep with so much
light in the night time.
" Finally we had to station electric tele
graphs along the road, with signal men to
telegraph when a train was in sight, and I
have heard that some of the fast trains beat
the lightning fifteen minutes every forty
But I can't say as that is true—the rest I
know to be so I."
Did you over see some member of a family
fiuZing away—gradually, yet surely, beyond
all human help, wasting under the power of
disease? Around the house, perhaps—going
out for the short walk or the gentle ride ;
able, it may be, to see friends, and pleasures
of life ; but growing weaker day by day—
suffering, enduring, but slowly fading. Did
you ever see a friend thus as piece by piece
the clayey tabernacle was being taken down
and the spirit pluming itself for its right; as
soon as its prison chains fall off?
Such an one I saw recently—and who has
now gone to her eternal home. It was very
touching to watch the solicitude of all the
family for their drooping flower. The ar
rangements for the visit, had been made-with
reference to her wishes ; the temperature of
the room must be regulated for her comfort ;
the easiest chair had been for her use. The
mother's eye watched her as she passed
around the room, with a mother's- anxiety;
the sisters anticipated every wish of her
heart ; the little brothers hushed their noisy
glee and stepped more gently in her presence.
I watched her weakness as she turned upon
her loved ones for support, apparently uncon
scious of all their attentions—receiving them
as freely as they were given—and thought
what a beautiful provision of a merciful Prov
idence is the family ! It is indeed a relic of
Eden left to us yet unbroken, primitive heaven
born blessedness. If the world were one
great Commune of Socialism, as some would
seem to desire in these days of wickedness,
we might do well enough in youth, and health,
and vigor, but what would become of the
fading ones in this selfish world ?
We may well be grateful for family com
forts. We may well prize then). if we have
them unmarred by sickness or death, for but
a few families escape a great while. And
when. - they come what consideration should
induce us to spare .any attention which can
be given to smooth_the, pathway to the tomb?
No lapse of time can ever take away , the bit
terness of the recollection of unkindness at
such a time, after the grave has closed. over
the lost one.
Speak gently to your fading ones. Bear
patiently with allthe humors and caprices of
a mind weakened by disease. Consider no
self-denial too great to bo borne. But espe
cially point often to the necessity of being at
any time prepared for death, If possible,
disrobe death of its terrors by ma,king•it fa
miliar and holding free intercourse upon the
grdat themes of the soul's immortality and
its eternal home. Such efforts will bring con-
HUNTINGDON, PA., NOVEMBER 11, 1857.
A Fast Story.
The Fading One
-PERSEVERE.-
solation in the hour of sorrow, when all the
weary watchings and night vigils and trials
of patience shall be forgotten.
I was spending a few days with an inti
mate friend, and never did I see a more sys
tematic housewife, and, what then seemed to
me, one who had so quiet and complete con
trol of her child. But the secret of the lat
ter I soon learned. One evening she wished
to spend with me at a neighbor's—it was a
small social gathering of friends, therefore
she was very desirous of attending; but her
child demanded her presence with. him. After
undressing him, and hearing him say his
prayers, she said:
" Willie, did you see that , pretty little kit
ten in the street to-day ?"
" Yes, I did," he replied; " I wish I had
her ; wasn't she pretty ?"
" Yes, very; now don't you want me to
buy this kitty for you ? Perhaps the man
will sell."
" Oh, yes, mother do buy her."
" Well, then, be a good boy while I am
gone," thus saying, she closed the door, but
he immediately called her back.
" Don't go till morning, then I can go with
you ; won't you stay ?"
No, Willie ! the man won't sell it if I
don't go to night; so be a good boy."
He said no more, but quietly lay down.
"Is this the.way you govern your child ?"
said I, after we had gained the street; if you
but knew the injury you are doing, you would
take a different course."
"Injury !" she repeated, "why, what harm
have I done? I did not tell him I iconic/ see
the man—l only asked him if I should."
" But you save him to understand that you
would. He is not old enough to detect the
difference now, but he soon will be. Then I
fear you will perceive your error too late.—
You have yourself grafted a thorn in your
young rose, which will eventually pierce you
most bitterly. You cannot break off the thorn,
or club the point, to make it less piercing.—
On your return he will' not see the kitten,
therefore you will have' to invent another
falsehodd to conceal the first."
We had. now - gained our friend's door,
which ended our conversation. During the
evening she seemed gayer than usual ; my
words had little or no effeCt upon her. She
did not think her little one was doing all he
could to keep awake to see the coveted kitten
on her return, wondering what made 'mother
gone so_long.' It was late ere I reminded
her we ought to return. But little was said:
during our homeward walk. She went noise
lessly into the room supposing him asleep ;
but he heard her and said :
" Mother, is that you ? Have you. brought
the kitten ? I kept awake to see it, and was
so sleepy."
"No, my dear ; the man would not sell
her."
" Why won't he, mother ?" he asked with
quivering lips.
" I don't know ; I supose he wants her to
catch rats and mice."
"Did he say so, mother?"
" He did not say just that, but I thought
he meant so."
" I did want it so bad; mother." The little
lips quivered, and the tears started to his
eyes.' He rubbed them with his little hands,
winking very fast to keep them back, but
they would come ; at last he fell asleep with
the pearly drops glistening on his rosy cheeks.
The mother's glistened also. As she knelt to
kiss them away, he murmured softly in his
broken slumber, did want it so bad.' She
turned her dewy eyes towards me, saying—
" You have led me to-see my error. Never
will I again, 'let what will be the conse
quence, deceiVe my child to please myself.".
Mothers are you practising the same de
ception? If you are; pause and think of the
consequences
,ere it is too late. Does it not
lessen your confidence hi a person when you
find .out they have been deceiving you? Will
it not also that of your children in you, when
they become old enough to detect it? Besides,
it would be very strange if they themselves
did not imitate you in things of more impor
tance.
It is the pride and joy of a mother's heart
to gain and retain the entire confidence of
her child, and it is in her power to do so if
she but exercise that power by precept and
example.—New York Independent.
Here is a 'bit of advice' to young ladies,
setting forth how they may know whether a
young gallant is really courting' them, or
only paying them polite attentions.' The
confounding the one with the other has been
the source o very much trouble, both before
and since the era of Mr. Pickwick and. Mrs.
Bardell:—
A young man admires a pretty girl, and
must manifest it. lie can't help doing so for
the life - of him. The young lady has a ten
der heart, reaching out like vine tendrils for
something to cling to. She sees the admira
tion ; is flattered; begins soon to love; expects
some tender avowal ; and perhaps gets so far
as to decide that she will choose a white
satin under that gauze,' &e.,at the very mo
ment that the gallant she alf loves is pop
ping the question to another damsel ten miles
off!
Now the difficulty lies in not precisely un
derstanding the difference between polite
attentions' and the tender manifestations of
love- Admiring a beautiful girl, and wish
ing to make a wife of her, are not always the
same thing ; and therefore it is necessary that
the damsel should be on the alert to discover
to which class the aitentions paid her by
handsome and fashionable young gentlemen
belong.
First, then, if a young man greets you in
a loud, free and hearty tone ; if he knows pre
cisely where to put his hands; stares you
straight in the eye, with his mouth wide open;
if he turns his back to you to speak to ano
ther ; if he tells you who made his coat ; if
he squeezes your hand ; if he eats heartily in
your presence; if he fails• to talk very kindly
to your mother ; if in short, he sneezes when
you are singing, criticises your curls, or fails
Deceiving• Children.
Sow to Tell
,
~......,.. \li - -
'..':'
..,...:,:.
,'.,..:...
~,,-.
~,,:,-,,. •
• 1 „,:: : .....„,„-
!
to be foolish fifty times every hour, then don't
fall in love with him for the world.! He only
admires you, let him say what he will to the
contrary.
On the other hand, if he be merry with ev
erybody else, but quiet with you ; -if he be
anxious to see if your tea is sufficiently sweet
ened, your dear person well wrapped up
when you go out into the cold; if he talks
very low and never looks you steadily in the
eye; if his cheeks are red and his nose only
blushes, it is enough. If he romps with your
sister, sighs like a pair of old bellows, looks
solemn when you are addressed by another
gentleman, and in fact is the most still, awk
ward, stupid, yet anxious of all your male
friends, you may go ahead and make the poor
fellow too happy for his skin to hold him!
Young ladies ! keep your hearts in a case
of good leather, or somo other tough substance,
until the right one is found beyond a doubt,
after which you can go on and love and court
and be married and happy, without the least
bit of trouble.
We consider this advice so sensible, that
although it is somewhat open to the charge
of bluntness, we have no hesitation in press
ing it upon the attention of our lady readers.
There are many individuals in society who
can never be 'depended upon. They are
good, easy souls, according to the general un
derstanding, and are ever ready to make prom
ises. But performances with
. them is quite
a different affair. They are uncertain, vas
cillating, and altogether unreliable. A sad
system, and one that is apt to get them into
many difficulties. Too much importance can
not be attaohed to reliability. It is a price
less quality. It may be counted upon at all
times and seasons and under all circumstan
ces. A pledge is given, a promise is made,
and the utmost confidence may be felt in their
fulfilment. With too many however, aye,
with the great Multitude of mankind, the sys
tem is otherwise.: gather insincerity charac
terizes the promise in the first place, or hesi
tation and change take place soon after, and
thus the word is forfeited, the character
and all future confidence is destroyed.—
And this applies as well to the little as to the
great things of life.
It is too much the habit with the thought
less, to regard the non-fulfilment of small en
gagements as of no importance whatever.—;
They will agree to meet this friend or that at
a certain time or place, and then will treat the
whole matter with indifference or contempt,
utterly regardless of the indirect insult con
veyed in such trifling, as well as the waste of
moments and hours, which to another may
be precious. Indeed, individuals who are
prompt and punctual in little things, are sel
dom remiss in great. If they are attentive
to the ordina7ry courtesies of life and society,
they will, in the majority of cases, be found
truthful, manly, high-minded and honorable.
There is, indeed, great virtue in reliability.—
It adorns, dignifies, and elevates the charac
ter. A reliable man is always a good citizen,
and agreeable companion, a prudent counsel
lor and trust-worthy friend. He is a man of
conscience and of principle, and his words
and deeds are thus influenced and controlled
by considerations of the highest and purest
descriptions. He may be depended upon as
well in the hour of misfortune as the day of
prosperity. His advice will be received with
respect and confidence, his professions will
always be characterized by sincerity and
veracity.
Dr. Splint attends a masquerade ball. In
the motley and happy throng he falls in with
a fair pilgrim in black silk, whose charming
person, snow-white neck; and bewitching,
coquettish airs, awaken in his soul the most
rapturous love. She casts upon him looks
of languishing tenderness; ho revels in the
hope, of having made a blissful conquest.
lie musters up his courage and ventures to
addres her.
" Who art thou, lovely mask?" asks the
gallant doctor, almost melted in the glow of
love.
" Is it possible you do not know me, doc
tor ?" lisped the young lady in black.
"No, upon my honor, I do not know thee,
my beautiful damsel."
" Bethink yourself, doctor."
"Ah t" thou art surely the gracious fairy
who has .appeared to me to-day, for the
fourth time, to open to me. the gates of
bliss."
" You mistake, doctor; I am no fairy."
"Ah I who art thou then ?"
"I am the well-known lady to whom you
have now these ten weeks been indebted in
the sum of three dollars and six levies for
washing and ironing !
The doctor stood like a large petrified cat
fish ! The last we saw of him he was prac
tising on a brandy smash at Camden,, and
trying to discover what made the big "Rus
sian balloon" go up.
SIIELTF.R FOR STO6K.—Many farmers still
neglect their animals in winter, feeding them
from the stock-yard in the open air. This
practice is not only barbarous, but is very
expensive. It takes a third more of hay to
carry a cow through the winter by this
method, and with the best of hay, she will
not Come out in good condition.
Warm stables are a substitute for fodder,
and an animal sheltered in them, is muclr
more easily kept in high flesh. Then, by
stabling animals, we can save all the ma
nure, which is quite too large an item for
farmers in this ago to throw away.
Many who have large farms, and' do not
wish to build a barn long.enough to hold all
the hay and grain, build several small barns
in different meadows. These save the carting,
both of hay and of manures. • -
In no case should hay be foddered out to
cattle without some' kind of shelter. A hovel
opening to the south can be made very cheap
ly, and with light walls and thatched roof, it
will keep cattle quite comfortable. They
will save the cost of building in a single win
ter.. Now is the time 'to put them up.
fl7'Lying parents will have lying children.
Editor and Proprietor.
Reliability.
A Novel Ueeting.
,
CURING BEEF AND PORK.-Th 6 follownsg
mode of curing beef and . pork, we have
perhaps given before, but itwill bear re-pub-;
lication;
To 1 gallon of water,
Take 1 lbs. salt,
brown sugar;
oz. saltpetre.
• koz. potash. -
In this ratio the pickle to be - increased to
any quantity desired. " • ^'
Let these he boiled together until all ow
dirt from the salt and sugar (which will not
be a little,) rises to the top and is skimmed
off. Then threw the pickle into a large tub to
cool, and when cold, pour it over your beef
or pork, to remain the usual time, say . from
four to six weeks,.-according to the size of
the pieces, and the kind of meat.. The meat
must be well covered with the pickle and it
should not be put down for at least two days
after killing, during which time it should bn
slightly, sprinkled with powdered saltpetre;
—Germantown, Telegraph.
NO. 21.
How TO MARE LARD CANDLES.— Misfits:
Editors Having been the recipient of
many favors through the columns of your
invaluable publications, I propose as far as
in me lies, to cancel the obligations already
incurred, and as the first installment, I shall
offer a recipe for making hard, durable and
clear burning candles of lard. The manu
facture of lard candles is carried on to a con
siderable extent in some of the Western
States, particularly Wisconsin, and being
monopolized by the few has proved very luL•
crative. The following is the recipe in to-to:
To every S lbs. of lard, 'add one ounce
nitric acid • and the manner of making is as
follows: Having carefully Nieighed your
lard, place it over a slow fire, or at least
merely melt it; then add the acid, and mould
the same as tallow, and you have a clear,
beautiful candle.
In order to make them resemble bona fide
tallow candles, you have only to add a small
proportion of pure bees-wax. J. A Robison:
Belcher, N. Y.. in Co. Gent.
ALUM TO HARDEN CANDLES.—.Pisa, bI. Holt
says—ln the autumn of 1856 I killed a fat
cow, and my housekeeper tried the tallow—
then she made a parcel of mould candles
from the tallow without using alum. Af;
terwards she made some of the same kind of
tallow into candles by dipping. But before
she dipped the candles, she dissolved alum,
in water and mixed it with the tallow of
which she made the candles. ,The mould
candles and. the dipped candles were kept to
gether, and in the hot weather in the last
summer, while the dipped candles with which
alum was used, .were sufficiently hard and
firm, and burned / ' \yell, the monhd candles
which were made without alum, Were go soft
that they could not bear their min *eight,
but fell down in the candlesticks, and could
not be used till the weather became cooler.
HARD SOAP FOR FAMILY USE.—TakO two
lbs. of clear grease to one pound of rosin ;
make this into soft soap, and. while it is boil
ing, to every ten gallons of soap add one gal
lon of salt. Boil one hour after adding
. the
salt. When it is done boiling, the soap will
be at the top and the lye at the bottom.—
Skim off the soap ; keep it and gently Stir it
in a leaky vessel, so that the lye will all run
out the same as buttermilk does out of but
ter ; then work the soap as butter is worked
until it is as thick as hasty pudding ; then
set it away to cool. Turpentine or tar will
answer instead of rosin, but are not so godd.:
Any refuse salt is good enough, or old
pickle.
Another: Omit the rosin, and make as
above. When the soap is skimmed off, and
the lye all drained out, add boiling water to
the soap, three parts water to four of Soap ;
stir well together, and continue to stir It
gently as long as it is thin enough to settle
level.
VINiCAR. —The juice of one bushel of sn
aar beets will make from five to six gallons
of vinegar equal to the best wine. Wash and
grate the beets, express the juice, put the
liquor into a barrel, cover the bung with
gauze, and set in the sun, in fifteen or twen
ty days it will be fit for use. By this method
the very best of vinegar may be obtained
without any great trouble, and I hope all
who like good Vinegar will try it; —Ohio -
Valley .Farmer.
To CLEANSE FEATHER BEDS.—Rub them
over with a stiff brush, dipped in hot soap
suds. When clean, lay them on a shed or
any other clean place, where the rain will
fall on them. When thoroughly soaked, let
them dry in a hot sun for sts or set - en Sue ,
cessive days, shaking them up well and turn
ing them. over each - day. They should be
covered over with a thick cloth during the
night; if exposed to the night air they will
become damp and mildew:
To CLESNSE MATRASSES.—}Iair mattrasses
that have become hard and. dirty, can be
made nearly as good as new by ripping them,
washing the ticking, and picking the hair
free from the bunches, and keeping it in a
dry, airy place several days. Whenever, the
ticking gets dry, fill it lightly with hair, and
tack it together.
A HINT FOIL FARMERS.—It looks as though
there might be something in this :
A farmer of Courtland county, New York,
named Atila Burlingame—says that wheat
can be prevented from spoiling- in bins, in
damp weather, if one dry brick is put in it
for every five bushelsi of grain; and evenly
distributed throughout the bin; We believe
this. The brick everybody knows or ought
to know, is a great absorber of moisture.
Honsn TALK..—The New York Spirit of the
Ifimes gives the following characteristics of
a hood horse :
1. His oyes, even When seen in the stable,
are perfectly clear and transparent, and the
pupils or apples of the eyes are alike in
color and size.
2. On being nipped in the gullet, ho Brill
utter a sound like that from a belloft; 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 'dean' if . tou
find bunches or puff 6, or a difference in - size,
though he may 'not be lame,. disease .lurks
there.
4. If broad and hill between the eyes ; he
is susceptible
.of being trained to almost" any
thing.
5. If some white or parti-colored, he is
docile and gentle. . -
Aer.Tici trust religiously, to hope himibly,
to desire nobly, to think rationally, to will
resolutely, and to - work earnestly,—may this
be mine l—.l.frs. ; Tameson. •
who is always his tiwn Courisellor
will often have a fool for higi elieut. " -
Ofjt A§ftztht'tytr.