TERMS OF THE GLOBE. Per annum iu advance 31x mouths Three ruuuths A failure to notify a illicontiottrince at the expiration of the term milmeribed tor will be curuilderist a nuw vogage moot. TERNS OF ADVERTISING . . . . _ . . I insertion, 2 do. 3 do. Pone lines or legs . $ 25 $ 3734.....$ 60 One square, (12 ilues,) ...... .... 60......... 76 100 TWO squares, 1 00 1 50 2 00 Three squares, 1 60 2 25 3 00 Orer three week and less thou three months, 25 coots per square for each insertion, 0 months. 6 months. 12 months. Rix lines or legs, $1 60 $3 00 $6 00 One square 9 00 6 00 7 00 Two squares, 6 00 S 00 10 00 Titre* stinares, 7 00 10 00 15 00 Your squares, 9 00 13 00 20 00 Italia column 12 00 10-00 ...... —.24 00 One column 20 00 30 CC... 60 00 Professional and littslusea Cards not exceeding four lines, one yell,' .$3 00 Administrators' and Executors' Notices„ $1 76 Advertisements not marked with the number of inser tions desired, will be continued till forbid and charged ao• eording to these terms. OUR FLAG. The following beautiful lines were written by a gentle man holdings distinguished potition under the Federal Gorernmeut ha Washington City: PARODY " WOOD.V.t:f, BPARZ InST TOIL" Madmen, spore that nag I Touch not a single star; From sea to mountain crag Its stripes have gleamed afar; 'Two our forefathers' hand That pro it to out lot, There, m- Iman, let it about Your luso !shall harm it notl that flag of Liberty, Whose glory and renown Aro spread o'er lend and sea And would ye strike it down? Madmen, suspend your will, Cut not Its henron•born Una; Our Country's ensign still, Streaked pith celestial dyes! On OCCfae, {MVO aael heath, In battle and to blast, Our fathers cheered beneath, Or nailed It to the mast ; A tear fur those who fell, Fur those) who bred, renown, It cenght their last farewell— Ohl do not hew It down. Our heart.stt fillip round thee cling, And mem'ries o'er thee crowd; On field and deck thy wing Iles been a froeruan's shroud? Ohl Yin, the storm still brave; And Traitors, leave the spot; 'While we an arm to Rae Your rage shall harm It not. THE QUAKER'S REVENGE. Obadiah Lawson and Watt Dood were neighbors, that is, they lived within half a mile of each other, and no persons lived between their respec tive farms, which would have joined, had not a little strip of prairie land ex tended itself sufficiently to keep them separated. Dood was the oldest set tler, and from his youth up had enter tained a singular hatred against Qua kers ; therefore, when he was informed that Lawson, a regular disciple of that'. class of people had purchased the next farm to his, he declared he would make him glad to move away again. Accor dingly, a system of petty annoyances was commenced by him, and every time one of Lawson's hogs chanced to stray upon Dood's place, it was beset by men and dogs, and most severly abused. Things progressed thus fbr nearly a year, and the Quaker a man of decided peace principles, appeared in no way to resent the injuries received at the hands of his spiteful neighbor. But matters were drawing to a crisis, for Dood, more enraged than ever at the quiet of Obadiah, made oath that he would do something before long to wake up the spunk of Lawson. Chance favored his design. The Quaker had a high-blooded horse, (or filly, accor ding to the western mode of speaking,) which he had been very careful in rais ing, and which was just four years old. Lawson took great pride in this ani mal, and had refused a large sum of money for her. One evening, a little after sun-down, as Watt Dood was passing around his cornfield he discovered the filly feeding in the little strip of prairie land that separated the two fiirms, and he had conceived the hellish design of throwing off two or three rails of his fence, that the horse might get into the corn du ring the night. He did so, and the next morning bright and early, he shouldered his rifle and left the house. Not long after his absence, a hired man whom he had recently employed heard the echo of his gun, and in a few minutes Dood, considerably excited and out of breath, came hurrying to the house, where he stated that he had shot at and wounded a buck—that the deer had attacked him, and he had hardly escaped with his life. Tho story was credited by all but the newly employed hand, who had taken a dislike to Watt, and from his manner, suspected that something was wrong. He therefore slipped quietly away from the house, and going through the field in the direction of the shot, he suddenly came upon LiMSOII'S filly, stretched upon the earth, with a bul let-hole through the head, from which tho warm blood was still oozing. The animal was warm, and could not have been killed an hour. He has tened hack to the dwelling of Dood ; who met him in the yard and deman ded, somewhat roughly, whore he had been. " I'Ve been to see if your bullet made sure work of Mr. Lawson's filly," was the instant retort. Watt paled for a moment, but col lecting himself, he freely shouted "Do you dare to say I killed her ?" "how do you know she is dead ?" replied the man. Deed bit his lip, hesitated a moment end then turning walked into the house. A couple of days passed by, and the morning of the third one had broken, as the hired man mot friend Lawson, riding in search of his filly. No throat of recrimination escaped him; he did not even go to law to recover damages, but calmly awaited his plan and hour of revenge. It come at last. Watt Dood had a Durham heifer, for which he had paid a heavy price, and upon which he counted to , make great gains. Ono morning, just as Obadiah was sitting down, his eldest son came in with the information that neighbor Deed's heifer had broken down the fence, entered the yard, and after eat ing most of the cabbages, had tram pled the well made beds and the vege tables they contained, out of all shape --a mischief impossible to repair. " And what did thee do with her, .racob ?" quickly asked Obadiah. "I put her in the barn-yard ?" "Did thee beat her ?" I never struck her a blow." " Right, Jacob, right; sit down to thy breakfast, and when done eating, I will attend to the heifer." Shortly after he had finished his re- Llwson mounted a horse and rode 111311 ' He 1 ... ~... f WILLIAM LEWIS, Editor and Proprietor. VOL, XVI, over to Dood's was who sitting tinder the porch in front of his house, and who, as he beheld the Quaker dismount, supposed ho was coining to demand pay for his filly, and secretly swore he would have to go to law for it if he did get pay. "Good morning, neighbor Dood how is thy familY?" exclaimed Oba diah, as he mounted the steps and seat ed himself in a chair. " I have a small affair to settle with thee, this morning, and I came rather early." " So I supposed," growled Watt. "This morning my son found thy Durham heifer in my garden, where she has destroyed a good deal." " And what did ho do with her ?" demanded Dood, his brow darkening. " What would thee have done with her, had she been my heifer in thy garden ?" asked Obadiah. " I'd shot her," retorted Watt, mad ly, " as I suppose you have done ; but we are only even. Heifer for - filly is only tit for tat." " Neighbor Dood, thou knowest me not, if thou thinkest I would harm a hair of thy heifer's back. She is in my farm-yard; not even a blow, has been struck her ; she is where thee can get her at any time, I know thee shot my filly, but the evil one prompted thee to do it, and I lay no evil in my heart against my neighbors. I came to tell thee where thy heifer is, and I'll go home." Obadiah roso from his chair, and was about to descend from the steps, when he was stopped by Watt, who hastily asked : " What was your filly worth ?" " A hundred dollars is what I asked for her," replied Obadiah. " Wait a moment;" and Dood rushed into the house, from whence he soon returned, holding some gold in his hand. " Here's the price of your filly ; and hereafter let there bo pleasantness between us." Obadiah mounted his horse and rode home with a lighter heart, and from that day to this Dood has been as good a neighbor as any ono could wish to have--being completely reformed by the returning good for evill. MYSTERY OF KISSING. Depend upon it, a kiss is a great mystery. There is many a thing that we can't explain, still we are sure it is a fact for all that. Why should there be a sort of magic in shaking hands, which seems only a mere form, and sometimes a painful one, too ! for folks wring your fingers almost off; and make you fairly dance with pain, they hurt you so. It don't give much pleas ure, at any time. What the magic of it is we can't tell, but so it is tor all that. It seems only a custom, like bowing, and nothing else. Still there is more in it than meets the eye. But a kiss fairly electrifies you; it warms your blood, an sets your heart beating like a bass drum, and makes your eyes twinkle like stars in a frosty night.— It is a thing never to be forgotten.— No language can express it; no letters will give the sound. Then what in nature is equal to the flavor of it 1— What an aroma it is ! It is not grass, for you can't feed on it. It is neither visible nor tangible, nor portable, nor transferable. It is neither a substance, nor a liquid, nor a vapor. It has neith er color nor form. Imagination can't conceive it. It can't be imitated or forged. It is confined to no clime or country, but übiquitous. It is disem bodied when completed, but is instant ly reproduced, and is so immortal. It is as old as creation, and yet as young and fresh as over. Ii pre-oxistea, stilt exists and always will exist. It per vades all nature. The breeze, as it passes, kisses the rose, and the pendant vine stoops down and hides with its tendrils its blushes, as it kisses the lim pid stream that wafts in the eddy to meet it, and raises its tiny waves like lips to receive it. Depend upon it, Eve learned it in Paradise. How it is adapted to all eircumstances,l There is the kiss of welcome and of parting, the long-lingering, loving, present one, the stolen or the mutual one; the kiss of love, of joy, and of sorrow ; the seal of promise, and the • receipt of fulfil ment. It is strange therefore, that a woman is invinciple whose armory consists of kisses, smiles, sighs and tears ? BEAUTIFUL ANSWERS. A pupil of the Abbe Sieord gavo the following extraordinary answers : What is gratitude ?" "Gratitude is the memory of the heart." "What is hope ?" "Hope is the blossom of happi ness." "What is the difference between hope and desire?" "Desire is a tree in leaf, hope is a tree in flower, and enjoyment is a tree in fruit." "What is eternity?" "A day without yesterday or to morrow—a line that has no end." "What is time r " A line that has two ends—a path which begins in the cradle and ends in the grave." " What is God ?" " The necessary being, the sun of eternity, the machinist of nature, the eye of justice, the match maker of the Universe, the soul of the world," " Does God reason ?" " Man reasons because he doubts; lie deliberates—he decides. God is omniscient; Ho never doubts—lie therefore never reasons." Par The red, white and blue—the red cheeks, white teeth, and blue oyes of a lovely girl—are as good a flag as a young soldier in the battle of life need fight for. HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 80, 1861. THE POOR WIDOW, I was left au orphan when a mere baby, and received into the house of an uncle. My family had been rich, but their wealth had been dissipated, and I was poor as well as parentless. My uncle was a keen, cynical, world ly, poor man. He lived on the rem nants of a fortune (which I had heard he acquired by his wife) and the tra ditions of family greatness. his wife was dead—had died while I was still very young. I scarcely remembered her, and she had never awakened my affections. As I grow up, I insensibly acquired a low estimate of woman. 3.1 y uncle's influence all tended to this result, and there was nothing to counteract it. I was taught that my future position and comfort depended upon winning a wife who possessed fortune. "No matter what the woman may he," my uncle would say, " unless, in deed, she be strikingly vulgar. Mon ey covers all other defects, even ex treme ugliness. But don't marry a widow, my boy. It is said there's a skeleton in every house, but don't let yours be the skeleton of your wife's ' dear departed.' Every year since my childhood I had been accustomed to visit Lyme Hall. There dwelt au aged pair who had been my mother's earliest friends, and were, in fact, distant relations.— They had always manifested a warm affection for the child of their dead niece. They made a point of receiving these visits—they were wealthy and without direct heirs, and my uncle was averse to any neglect of the con nection, while I really enjoyed a few summer weeks in this quiet retreat, where I was treated like the son of the house, and where every variety of rural sport abounded. It was hero I met 'Harriet Marsden. " Harriet Marsden is here," Mr. Lyme said, as I shook hands with him. " You will be glad to meet her, I ata sure. She will make the house less dull than I feel it must be to a young man with only the timid wife' and myself to welcome him." Before I had time to reply Mrs. Lyme entered, and she too, hastened to tell me that "Harriet had arrived," evidently expecting that I should ex press my gratification at the announce ment. My curiosity v. as roused, but before I could seek its gratification visitors entered, and presently a slight, graceful figure entered the room. In troductions followed ; there was a lit tle tumult of pleasant voices while I leaned back in a fauteuil quite unob served for the time, and feasted my senses on the perfect oval of that fair face, the deep, sweet gray eyes, the pure brow, shaded by dark brown bands of satin-smooth hair, the grace ful ease of the figure, and the melody of the clear, liquid tones of a voice that reminded mo of ono I had heard chanting Chorals in a dim old German church. That night Mr. Lyme was attacked by a slight illness which confined him to his room for a week, and kept Mrs. Lyme in close attendance upon him. "Miss Harriet," as everybody at Lyme Hall called the beautiful guest of my old relatives, and I was perforce thrown into constant companionship. Walking, riding, singing, wo were to gether all day, save when Harriet took her place for an hour or two in the sick room, and I stole off to my room, or for a solitary ramble in the grounds, and thought of her. Ere the week was ended, I knew that I was madly in love with Harriet Marsden, and felt strong enough to sacrifice anything that i might win her. At the end of that time I sought an interview with Mrs. Lyme. I knew so little of Harriet that I dared not speak the words that trembled on my tongue. For the first time I felt a lover's painful timidity. - I wanted to know what obstacles, if any, stood in the way of the fulfillment of my wish es. The information obtained at this in terview made one thing certain to me. My uncle, on whom was my sole de pendence at present, would never con sent that I should address Harriet Marsden, poor and a widow. I seemed to shrink beneath his sneers, his ridicule, his worldly-wise advice. How I longed for fortune.— How I wished for strength to enter the arena of human struggle, and test my powers with my fellows in the race of ambition! Labor would be sweet with Harriet' s love for reward. To gain her hand would be better than all social triumphs ; and for the first time I felt how ignoble it would be to owe fortune to another; and a keen sense of degradation oppressed me as I thought how I had sought wealth, and looked upon the woman who was to bestow it upon mo as little better than an eneumberanco to its enjoy ment. I braved my uncle's wrath and ridi cule; was cast off by him; was aroused from my torpor by the shock; devel oped powers that I had not known of; siuc months later was on the road to success and proud independence, and dared to claim my bride, not fearing my ability to provide a home of simple comfort for her acceptance. " Why not have a quiet wedding hero, to-morrow morning ?" said my dear old granduncle, as we all bat one evening before the glowing parlor grate at Lyme Hall. The little hand that lay in mine traniblod, and a soft blush stole over the check of her who sat beside me—but no word was spo ken. The elders smiled at each other from the opposite arm-chairs. Then they rose and withdrew. " Come to me, Arthur, in the libra ry when you have finished your talk with Harriet," said Mr. Lyme, and I nodded assent, scarcely daring to hope -PERSEVERE.- that sho would consent to the conscious proposition that his words had encour aged me to make. But the task was not so difficult as I had feared, Harriet's objections to a speedy marriage being founded almost entirely upon her fears that a wife might be a hindrance to me in the pursuit of my lately begun profession al career. An hour had scarcely passed, ore, elate with her promise to become my wife next morning, I took my way to Mr. Lynie's library. The good old man read the tidings of my success in my countenance and warmly congratulated..me. "You have gained a prize, young man, a prize of the highest value. Be sure that you receive it as such. Har riet Marsden penniless, is worth scores of the senseless daughters of fashion. And penniless sho means to go to you, to redeem you from the name it seems you once had of—fortune hunter. It appears she has a little fortune, but she chooses to make it all over in ad vance to you. Here are the papers— nay, no thanks, nor disclaimers. It is her will and she is entitled to it now on her last day of freedom." I took the papers almost mechani cally. The gift was trifling, without doubt, and since it pleased my bride to bestow it, I would not be so churl ish as to refuse. On examing the " documents" after our marriage, I found that my wife had bestowed a fortune on me. She had been vastly rich all the time, but had kept the knowledge of the fact from me. My uncle cordially " forgave" me, on learning the good news, and de clared that he "suspected how it was all the while." AN ELEPHANT EGG. The following Frenchy anecdote is translated for the Boston Saturday Gazelle: At the last fair at Tarascon there were, of course assembled a troup of gymnasts, jugglers, acrobats, and a multitude of menageries, in one of which was an Asiatic elephant remark able for the largeness of his ears. His owner called him Kiouki Among tho acrobatic troupe was a maker of red balloons, recently so pop ular in England and America. He travelled with the show, and. seduced a couple of sous from the pockets of many a patron of it by selling him a balloon. A countryman stopped one day be fore the menagerie tent, and enticed by a painted representation of the elephant, paid his money to see him. Astonished at his size, ho asked the balloon man as ho went out : " Does that beast bring forth young, or lay eggs ?" Without a moment's hesitation, the mountebank replied: "Re lays eggs." " I thought so." " And if you wish one, to afford you the happiness of possessing under your own roof an individual of this species, for a franc I will guarantee that you shall carry home what no one else in the country possesses." The greenhorn (lid not hesitate to dffer his money, and the acrobat pre sented a red balloon. " Behold the egg I had the honor to promise you. It is one franc—and only for you, because the Sardin des Plantes at Paris buys all my elephant's eggs at six francs apiece, for the Alp rine expeditions, whore they use all the elephants they can find for the war against India. I chose the lightest egg I could find for you, that you rui&fht not wait too long for it to hatch. Its mother having already sat upon it many days, it will suffice you to wrap it up in wool and lay it in a dry place, to obtain, without expense and without effort, the magnificent Asiastie pro duct which it contains I" "Astonishing but how in regard to suckling him?' " Easy enough. No consequence what quadruped nourishes him. Lack ing a cow, a sow, or even a goat, you can bring him up yourself on turtle soup." The countryman departed charmed with his prize, and to keep it as safely as possible, wrapped it in a blue cotton handkerchief which he had bought at the fair for his wife. But in spite of all the care of which the egg that bore Kiouki 11. was the object, it was writ ten in the Book of Destiny that its proprietor should not see it hatched un der his roof. Somo little distance from the village where our countrymen resided runs a stream. lie approached it for the pur pose of imbibing the clear water. For the purpose of making a cup with his hands, ho deposited his precious bur den on the ground. lie drank freely of the water, then rising, turned to his elephant's egg. lie looked to the right and to the loft, but no egg! lie looks above him, sees the egg rising higher —higher—and carrying with it his wife's handkerchief. He believed that the elephant was about to be hatched, and it was not long after the egg was out of sight that he returned home crest fallen. His wife asked him whore the hankerchief was he had promised to bring her.— Then he narrated the entire adventure. The good woman opened her eyes and ears, and seeing her husband's grief not only at the loss of the elephant, but of the handkerchief, exclaimed: " Content yourself, husband; I'll be content with my black handkerchief, and I'm glad to know that the poor baby hasn't gone oft' without swathing clothes Kings never hear the voice of tenth until they are dethroned, nor beauties until they have abdicated their charms. PETER OARTVVRIG.HT. A remarkable character was Peter Cartwright. He was a great anti-sla very man and struck right and left to all who opposed him. One day, on approaching a ferry across the river Illinois, he heard the ferryman swear ing terribly at the sermons of Peter Cartwright, and threatening that if ever he had to ferry the preacher across, and knew him, he would drown him in the river. Peter, unrecognized, said to the ferryman : " Stranger, I want you to put me across," "Wait till I am ready," said the fer ryman, and pursued his conversation and strictures upon Peter Cartwright. Having finished, he turned to Peter and said : " Now I'll put you across. On reaching the middle of the stream Peter threw his horse's bride over a stake in the boat, and told the ferry man to let go his pole. " What for?" asked the ferryman. " Well, you've just been using my name improperlike ; and said if ever I came this way you would drown me. Now you've got a chance." " Is your name Peter Cartwright ?" asked the ferryman. " Aty name is Peter Cartwright." Instantly the ferryman seized the preacher; but he did not know Peter's strength; for Peter instantly seized the ferryman, one hand on the nape of his neck and the other at the seat of his trowsers, and plunged him in the water, saying : "I baptize thee (splash) in the name of the devil, whose child thou art." Then lifting him up, Peter added : " Did you ever pray?" "No" "Then it's timo you did." "Never will," answered the ferry man. Splash ! splash ! and the ferryman is in the depths again. " Will you pray now ?" asked Peter. The gasping victim shouted : " I do anything you bid me." " Then follow me; ' Our Father which art in Heaven,' Sze. Having acted as clerk, repeating after Peter, the ferryman cried: " Now let me go." " Not yet," said Peter, " you must make three promises :—First, that you will repeat that prayer morning and evening as long as you live; secondly that you will hear every pioneer preacher that comes within five miles of this ferry; and thirdly, that you will put every Methodist preacher over free of expense. Do you promise and vow?" "I promise," said the ferryman., And strange to say, that man after wards became a shining light. NEWSPAPER ARTICLES. A schoolmaster who had been en gaged a long time •in his profession, and witnessed the influence of a news paper on a family of children, writes as follows: I have found it to be the universal fact without exception that those scholars of both sexes, and of all ages, who have had access to newspapers at home, when compared with those who are not, are I. Better readers, excelling in pro nunciation and consequently read more understandingly. 2. They are better spellers, and de fine words with ease and accuracy. 3. They obtain a practical knowl edge of geography in almost half the time it requires others, as the newspa pers have made them familiar with the location of the most important places, nations, their government, , and doings on the globe. 4. They are better grammarians,for having become familiar with every va riety in the newspapers, from the com mon-place advertisements to the finish ed and classical oration of the States man, they more readily comprehend the meaning of the text and conse quently analyze its construction with accuracy. This is a good and competent wit ness. The school teacher. Who more competent than he to determin6 the real value of the newspaper as an aid to education and the development of the struggling mind? We prize his testimony as every one else should, and would add in this connection, that the primary and absolute advantage of a newspaper in families consists in the familiar subjects to the minds of its youthful members—subjects of com mon life and every day incidents, in which the rising generation feel suffi cient interest, if not to enable them to comprehend their purport and mean ing, certainly to onquiro and to desire explanation from their seniors. The habit of reading understandingly once acquired, leads onward by rapid and progressive steps, until the whole field of newspaper intelligence becomes sus ceptible of interest and cultivation.— The amount of information which can be accumulated by an early course of newspaper reading, extending - through the years of minority, cannot easily be estimated. BEEF EATING IN NEW YORK CITY.-- During the year 1860, 150,000,000 pounds of beef were consumed in Now 'fork city, at a cost to the butcher of at least $12,000,000. The number of beef cattle received during the year was 267,747 head; the average price, $8 15 per hundred weight, which is about one cent per pound cheaper than in 1859, and one cent and a half less than in 1858. The total number of live stock slaughtered last year in the city was 1,107,882 head. If they were placed together compactly on a road of fifteen feet in width, the drove would cover 220 miles Small fltults indulged, are little thieves that let in greater, TERMS, $1,50 a year in advance. TELL YOUR WIFE. If you are in any trouble or quan dary, tell your wife—that is, if you have one—all about it at once. Ten to ono her invention will solve your difficulty sooner than an your logic.— The wit of woman has been praised, but her instincts are quicker and keen er than her reason. Counsel with your wife, or your mother, or sister, and be assured that l_ight will flash upon your darkness. Women are too commonly adjudged as verdant in all but purely womanish affairs. No phi losophical student of the sex thus judges them. Their intuitions or in sight aro most subtle, and if they can not see a cat in the meal, there is no cat there. In counseling one to tell his trouble to his wife, we should go further, and advise him to keep_ none of his affairs secret from her. Many a home has been happily saved, and many a fortune retrieved by man's full confidence in his " better half"— Woman is far more a seer and prophet than man, if she be given a fair chance. As a general rule, wives confide the minutest of their plans and thoughts to their husbands, having no involve ments to screen from him. Why not reciprocate, if but for the pleasure of meeting confidence with confidence ? We are certain that no man succeeds so well in the world as he who, taking a partner for life, makes her the part ner of all his purposes and hopes.— What is wrong of his impulses or judg -1 ment, she will cheek and setright with her almost universally right instincts. " Help meet" was no insignificant title, as applied to man's companion. She is a meet help to him in every dark ness, difficulty and sorrow of life. And what she most craves and most de serves, is confidence—without which lore is never free from a shadow. THE PRINTER. The Belfast Mercury, give the follow ing in relation to printers : " From high to low, they are the same careless, light-hearted, clever, well-informed reckless fellows, know ing how , to act better than they do— nothing at times—yet everything if occasion requires, or the fit take them. Wherever you go you are sure to meet one. No sooner are they comfortable in one town than they make tracks for another, even though they have to travel on " hair space means." And to what will they not turn their hands ? We have seen, says an American edi tor, one and the same individual of the craft, a minister in California, a lawyer in Missouri, a sheriff in Ohio, a boat man ,on the Western canal, a sailor master of. a privateer, an auctioneer in New York, and a pressman in a great printing office. Nor are those charac teristics of the printers in any one country—they aro everywhere the same. We have met them as lecturers, actors, traveling preachers, ventrilo quists; in fact, as everything. We have met, on a tramp in this country, members of this roving profession, from all quarters of the globe—Frenchmen, Spaniards, Portuguese, Germans and Swedes—and all apparently as much at home as in their own country. Ar dent lovers of liberty ; kingcraft and priestcraft find but little favor in their eyes. They aro always with the peo ple. When the chartist excitement was raging in England, the most elo quent leaders of the movement were printeks. When the barricades were raised in Paris in 1848, the composi tors cast their type into bullets and fired them at the Royalist troops.— When the Americans were at war with Mexico, General Taylor's regiment was composed almost evclusively of volunteer printers, and they were the bravest of his troops." AN EDITOR, IN DisuumE.--:Wm. H. Clark, the editor of the Kendall (Ill.) Clarion, loves a good joke, and never lots an opportunity slip that promises dish of fun. Here is his last: "DisoufsEn.--We have lately got a now suit of clothes, and no man could be more effectually disguised. We look like a gentleman. Upon first putting them on, we felt like a cat in a strange garret, and for a long time thought we were swapped off. We wont to the house, and scared the baby into fits; our wife asked us if we wanted to see Mr. Clark, and told us that we would find him at the office; went there, and pretty soon one of our business mon came in, with a strip of paper in his hand. fe asked if the editor was in; told him we thought not; asked him if ho wished to see him pa,rtieulary ; said ho wanted him to pay that bill; told him we didn't -believe ho would bo in; business man left. Started to the house again; met a couple of young ladies; one of them asked the other, 'What handsome stranger is that 7' In this dilemma we met a friend and told him who we wore, and got him to introduce us to our wife, who is now as proud of us as can be. The next time wo get a new suit, we shall let her know beforehand." FOR PARENTS-HOW TO RUIN A SON. --Let him havo his own way—allow him free use of monoy—suffer him to rove where he pleases on the Sabbath day—give him free access to wicked companions—call him to no account for his evenings—furnish him with no stated employment. Pursue any one of these ways, and you will experience a most marvelous deliverance, if you havo not to mourn over a debased and ruined child. Thousands have realized the sad result, and have gone mourn ing to their graves. ~Paris, at present, it is said, pub lishes 503 newspapers, 460 of which are devoted to art, science, literature, industry, commerce and agriculture• ADULTERATION OF FOOD AND The British Parliament lately passed a bill for preventing the adulteration of articles of food and drink. It im poses a penalty an every person vend.. Mg or exposing for sale any article of food or drink with which any noxious ingredient has been Mixed. More Over, the offender's name, residence, and offense are to published In the news papers, or otherwise, at his_ own •ex pense. • As a further chock, prefession :! , al analysts are to be appointed by, the vestries, district,boards, or town-coun cils. Purchasers of provisions may have their purchases analyzed by them on payment of a small fee; and their certificates may be produced as evidence against fraudulent vendors. The privy council is also empowered to cause analysis to be made; and to regulate the use of materials or ingre dients distinct from the natural com position of any article of food or drink with which it may be mixed. It is hoped, and there is good rea son to believe, that this act will great ly improve the health of Great Britain. Few have any idea of the extent to which the adulteration of food is prac tised. In some eases it is physically harmless, and has the effect only of cheating . the purchaser. But in a great majority of cases it not only de frauds, but also causes great injury to the health. In either case, such wild ' teration deserves -punishment-with-a severity proportionate to the hurtful criminality of the fraud. A few instances of such adulteration, proved by repeated examinations by ohemists and other professional ex perts of high character, will serve to show the necessity of legislation for its prevention. Bottled fruits and pickles aro colored a lively green by the use of copper, This is a most dangerous, and, at the same time, a most foolish adulteration, which plea ses the eye, while it destroys the health of the consumer. When the London Lancet called attention to the hurtful effects of this use of copper, Messrs. Crosse and Blackwell, pickle manufacturers of London, abandoned it. At first their business was injured by • the change. Their customers wrote to them that their pickles did not sell so well, because they were not so green as formerly. Their business has increased, however, since a label has been pasted on each bottle, ex plaining the cause of the change. In England, and perhaps also in tho United States, wheat flour is mixed with bean-meal, rice flour, barley, In dian corn, rye, potatoes, alum, bone-dust and plaster of Paris. Alum is used in' baking bread, to make' it lighter and crisper. It is very hurt ful to the stomach, and works a great fraud, which weighs heavily on the laboring poor. Confectionery, besides being adulterated with starch, chalk, or clay, is colored to please the fancy, with preparations of mineral substan ces, such as lead, arsenic, and copper, These poisons are what medical men term cumulative; that is, when taken up by the system little by little, they finally produce the most injurious ef fects. Hence, in France, the use of coloring ingredients in confectionery is stringently forbidden by law. These poisons aro not always of slow effect. Many instances are recorded, and might be cited, of quick and violent poisoning, sometimes resulting in death, from eating colored sweetmeats. Milk is made unwholesome and dan gerous by feeding cows, for the sake of greater profit, on slops from distil leries. It will be remembered that this abuse existed to a very great ex tent in New York a year or two ago, and was exposed in a well-known illus trated weekly. Ground coffee is adul terated with chicory, beans, and va rious kinds of grain, Chicory, in its turn, as adulterated with Venitian red, which is adulterated with brick-dust. Many of the preparations sold as co coa and chocolate, consist of a. most disgusting mixture of bad or musty beans, with their shells, coarse sugar of the very lowest quality, branny flour, and animal fat, generally It has been denied that tea is colored green by the Chinese;- but Sir John Bowring, formerly . British Commis sioner to China, declares it to be true : and Mr. Fortune, an Englishman, who actually witnessed the process, has published a description of it. After the tea; reaches Groat Britain, it is colored with more deletrions substan ces than those used by the Chinese, and is mixed with the leaves of a, groat variety of plants. The adulteration of intoxicating drinks is almost universal; and its ef fects aro most pernicious, because of the immoderate use of such drinks for pleasurable excitement. To the cred it of London brewers, London porter and stout have been pronounced by chemists to be perfectly pure; but beer and ale are corrupted by the mixture of a vast quantity of deleterious drugs. Suffice it to Say of brandy, whiskey, gin, rum, and the great variety of wines, that their constant and increas ing adulteration has fearfully increas ed the miserable consequences that result from their immoderate use. To drink any one of them, at home, an& when we know it to come from the most respectable dealers, borders on folly; but to drink it at a public bar is downright madness. , Ono who, in the face of • the fearful disclosures so frequently made as to the poisonous corruption of common liquors, continue their use as a beverage, drinks damna tion to himself, and deserves what follows. We have thus instanced, at some length, the general prevalence of the adulteration of food and drinks, to show the necessity of following in America the good example in this, re gard set by Great Britain.— Washing ton Globe. NO. 32. REAL ESTATE AT WASHINGTON.— The political troubles of the times, and the danger that at some future time, if not now, the Union may be divided and Washington cease to-be the capital, has greatly. depressed the value of real estate in that city. Ono of the largest real estate holders has gone insane over the troubles,- and been carried to the insane Asylum.— Ile was formerly a resident of New buryport, bat removed to Washington many years ago, where he had amass ed a large fortune by speculation - "in real estate, and the impending- crisis has caused his ruin. ie.. What resciables a half a ebeeSe ? The other halt . .