>t3) | " Yoi. 50. AMERICAN pODUSnUB EVERY fauaSnAY-MORHISU BY JOHN B. BRATTON. , TF. JIM S : " on-jcitii'HON.—Two Dollars' if paid within tho . ftn( j Two Dollars and Fifty Conts, if not.paid fcthin tho year. Thoso terms will ho rigidly ad ♦mroll to in ovory. .instance. No subscription dis continued until all arrearages ore paid unless at option of the Editor. Anvr.uxtsr.ui's'rs —Accompanied by the oasn, and kot cSSSfiding one square, will bo;inseTted three niraesnwOno Dollar, and twenty-five cents for each ‘additional Insertion. Thoso of a greater length tri proportion. ... ■ • .^tdi-ifarKTino— Such.-hs Hand-hills, Posting-hills, Pamphlets, Clnpifs, Labels, Ac. Ac., executed with ■ • 'ocurnoy and at the shortest notice. ■jMtal. TO HIY, CHILDREN. In tho Boston Trameript, not long since, thoro was a very exquisite .poem, which.was written in camp, nfterbattio, ami sont'by a soldier to his ohil dron at’ homo. It will stir good thoughts at any fireside, to road aloud : Darlings, I nm riofiry pining; Shadows fall across my way ; I ran hardly soo tho lining dr’tlio cloud—tho silver lining,’. . Turning darlcneasiuto day. Jam weary of the sighing; . . Moaning, wailing through the air; hearts, in .anguish -crying I’m* the lost ones—for the dying ; Sobbing anguish of despair. I nm weary ,of the .fighting t ; brothers,, red with brothers' gore, 1 the wrong were righting—. Truth wv\d,,ll<mot’s battle fighting— I would'draw my sword no more. I ara pining, dourest, pining, For your kisses on my cheek ;• jfor your dear arms round me twining ; * J f or your soft eyes on anu shining ; li’or your loved words, darlings—speak! Toll mo, in yonr earnest prattle, Of the blivediranch and dovo; Gall mo from' the.cannon's rattle}.. Take my thoughts away from,buttle;; Fold me in your dearest love. Durlinga. I am weary pining ; Shadows fall across my way ; I cun hardly ‘aeo tbu lining Or thy silver lining, burning darkness into day. HiEelln neons. THE SIOKY OF A FHEi’TY \m\ML I tnus very hnautiful. Why should I seek to deny that r knew the fact, when I learned, it daily, hourly.. from my imvror, from tlio u<lmu;in£ glances uf alt eyes, Tivun the 4«.t -|enu£ tongues «if those who sought thus to ■rigraiisite themselves with me. AndJ[ wns proud »i‘ my heuuUvnofc v«m, 1W arts to attract attention »fco .H.yind dressed \w~ ways with entire ww.-idioU-y. ftflt I hud a iun.u!;li(y lecdkig of superiority, the such chai'nis seemed, to set mo apart from piy mvh sex,’and fit me for tlie worship the other; a feeling that I was not made lorUlo’s cumrtnm.*nses, for its toils, iW cares, and vte .s’ui'vows; even the joys of other women -peem ’ed pyor. to me, tor my. soul craved worship • niy, cared nob for love nor. the happiness that springs from the minglingo! true hearts. My father was a wealthy uaerehunt, a-h- Rorhed in business, n.nd deeming his W'Uolo duty done to his family when ho supplied, them with the means and appliances of !«x» • urioutf living. I had a who di<ed .bphirc. I .arrived at womanhood—a nokic youth, as 1 remember him, and who, had his Vd’o been spared; might have hpmv my yueu iov, ami saved me from many an unworthy tmun\)h and many.an hour ,of suffering,— 'There was a sister many years younger than iuySelf—a plain, quiet, sickly child, and Vuithep, who was (it pain&' me now to write it, fur I would, fain respect the memuvyj of my. mother.) a %'aln w y.xk woman, . almost characterless, in fact, except in the almost .mluving love she bestowed upon this child- Such ivas oar household, and I was its mas ter spirit. ' • Frum.niy very infancy I had accus tomed to rale, in an indolent way,, tat right, No one hub'"my brother had ever -thought of disputing my will, and now that ho was gone, I reigned with unlimited sway. 1 prclerred the country, and . front early Spring to drear November days, with their early close, told of the near approach of win ter, we were wont tft inhabit our stately ‘ mansion, which, from a wood*crownod height overlooked the Hudson. The. remainder of -the year wo occupied the elegant town house, where, in my languid way, I gave myself up to.thc'dizay rdund of pleasure that awaited me. I dragged my mother from party to party, for a chaperon I must have, and she never dreamed of disputing my wishes, though she did not like to leave my'sister, and was mis erable away from the luxurious nook which was appropriated to her own use in our state ly dwelling. She must, herself, have bad a faint, waxy prettinesa in her youth, but her indolent, self-indulgent life had long destroyed the delicate bloom and contour on which she had prided h6Vse>f,- and. triumph# for her vanity things of the past,- She shone now on* ty in my reflected light, and derived some iamb solace for her fatigues, her tight dress and uncomfortable shoes, from listening at parties to the many flattering* remarks that my appearance was sure to elicit. These Jh© would repeat to 1117 father at next morn rog’e breakfast table, and it was pleasant to see the good man enjoying, at second hand, Jil the fine things which-were said about his favorite child. ‘ You'll be .taking a husband one of these flays, Ettie/ he would soy. . • Some of these fine chaps that get their money from their fathers, or grandfathers, if ever they had any, will be coming to ask for you. I won't Bay no* to a good fellow, if you cfiuld stoop to like him-well enough to say yes; hut there'll bo just this bargain to be made. If be takes a wile; i must Take a son, for you are fiot going to leave*the old father's house; I don’t «tee fiow Lcou|d well lire through a day with out a'fctght of my beauty,' f Myfathor was a coarse man, almost with- I education, and had ways that shocked I } oy fastidious tastes,ait times; But lib loved l iuo ivll too fondly. rboUcvo/evefi ftuqn, ihu only genuine .emotion that had |«Jirrod my cold’uml sluggish hcun. wiis uflbc- I"* 1 " 11 for him. .. Uis kiss upon 1 my brow aK mo happy, and his lovivasl-now |*'k buck to thr>so dr v j , seems the only- real thing in nUn>ydndUmutmxWtont;c. ; Much as I loved the country and nature, I had all the worldlincss of feeling that belongs .properly to the dwellers in oities. I loved high position.- X thought I might, marry some 1 day—with my glorious beauty I could always choose fr§m numerous suitors, and therefore might enjoy my freedom long.— Blit the marriage I should make should bo •worthy of my beauty, which I bad deter mined nofude casket should over enclose.— I gave no encouragement to any one. Not one of my rejected suitors, even in the bit terness of Ms mortification, could assert that I had played tho coquette, or stooped from my haughty pride to bestow on him words or glances more kindly than thoso which wore -dispensed to *ll. . . , , . And so the bright years rolled on, leaving in their-track ho care nor blight., My tri umphs had not waned, my beauty had not shown signs, of decay, my pride was-as cold arid hanghty. as in tho earlier days, and yet, for five years I had boon a leader in society, as much so as a young unmarried woman can he, the centre of its innermost,, exclusive circle, round which scores of inferior suns re-, volved, pale in the dazzle of my loveliness. I was twenty-throe, and began to weary of this life. ~ For the firsttimelwas conscious of a want th'at-admiration could notsupplyTof a long ing for something different from tho distant worship I had hitherto’received. And when my mother oho day hinted to mo, in her tihi id-Svay, that Margaret was now old enough to enter society, arid that it might bo well ere long I should make a selection from my nu merous devotees, I wont away "silently, to my room, and wept,the first bitter tears I had. ever shed. I knew that my mother meant no vmklnd pess; she had never spoken unkindly ta mo oven in the days of my undisciplined child hood’. ' .She know that Margaret’ would make no impression' in, the circles whore I still reigned ns ft hollo, and she was right in de siring that her favorite child should not be utterly eclipsed. . , , - Wo were in the country then; it was early June, and never had my homo, and all its snmaimlinga seemed so beautiful. - I knew that if I married I must leave it, spile of,my .father's Utopian plans. My own pride would not have permitted mo to marry a man who would not insist upon a home .of his own, and, though virtual mistress here, ! meant, as a matron, to he real mistress of my bus, band’s house. The question was who that husband was tobe, and I found myself almost haling in advance tW man who should have the right to heat me \vray from my beauti ful home. ft, a few.days the firat'of our summer guests would come to us; all through the warm season our acquaintances came and went. ITho house was never empty. Most of those who would come to ua this summer were persona invited liy myself. I ran.over the list mentally, wondering if among them would ho found one man wtinTn I could suffi ciently rnapeot—love was out of the calcula tion entirely—to bo willing to receive him as my future husband. There wore many whoso worldly position might have satisiiod my wildest desires ,; hut when I had readiedthat 'conclusion I con,hi not among them; nor among the merely eligible, name one from -whotn'l did not shrink with distaste. And yeti was folly resolved, since they repre sented alt that was best of society, in the or dinary acceptation,of the term, to'seleotifrom among them one to whom enough favor Vras tu be shown to bring him to my feet'before the summer was east. ' A strange,-perhaps degrading revelalirin this of a girl’s thoughts arid resolves. ■ I d« not shrink from it, for it is the truth. I aih but spciiking from my own experiences—riot suggesting even the probability that" another may have felt and acted the same. I linger upon the threshold of my beauti ful life~the life I .was so soon to leave for- reluctant to. cross it,' to return, than I was even in. that futultf then, stretched dim before me, with only mvsleriuus premonitions of the destiny cou- within its veil. Now, long since,.it lias become a bitterand sorrowful past, whose griefs arid wrongs I hesitate to Let mo hasten, therefore, lest my pen.refuse its,task. ' '. Among our guests that summer, were two who occupied social extremes; James Gra ham liorrimer and Earnest' Sinclair by name, Connected by some distant relationship, and singularly alike ip person,, they wore the first to enter our hospitable home. The first was distinguished not only as hearing the illus trious name of his father, but that represent ing the wealth of a deceased uncle, now his own. lie was thus set apart by birth and position and far above,, the common herd. . All advantages that attract tho’eye and win interest, were his, lib was liir cufck of^the past season’ but resisting all the temptations that beset him, had bent only-gt, my shrine, ami that so coldly and distantly, aa to'pique me into unusual observation of him. Mr. Sinclair I had not before mot, His. friend had asked pefriiission to bringhim to U9,,abd it Was understood that, before, the close of the summer, he wqujd leave the country upon a diplomatic mission to which ho had been recently appointed. His per sonal advantages were- perhaps superior to those of Mr. Graham Lorrimer, but he was poor and without position ; a gentleman, however, Iti the highest sense of the term, as it took mb no long time to discover. From the first L liked him better than his cousin. Ho was one of those men whose better qual -1 ities shine out in the -domestic circle, gay, cheerful, ready in expedients for amuse ment. with varied conversational powers that suited every word and every mind, kind and thoughtful, notsimply polite, JCr. Graham Lorrimer was brilliant when he chose to exert himself, which was'not of ten, and uuexceptiauably. correct in all the btensances of social intercourse, but cold mannered and 'haughty. He did not please me, and yet he had not been twenty-four hours our inmate before I had resolved to accept his suit should he offer,.and I had lit tle doubt that before the opening of another year I should be installed mistress of that magnificent city mansion whore Mr. Graham Lorrimer reigned in the place of his late un cle. ... • Nor did T swerve from roy resolve as the sweet summer days rolled on with their bur den of beauty, perfume and pleasure. Oth er guests came and went, but the cousins lingered, and eaqh day revealed to mo.more fully that my soul, that better portion of mo so long dormant, was kindred to the soul of Ernest Sinclair. A new, delightful, timid" joy possessed me in hia, presence. His voice was nniMo.’to my ear, a glanno bf,his eye thrilled me. with a sensation halfjoy, half sadness, rtbhngbfc 3? liked", admired him ; bhk thb timb cmflfc,' too* late, when. I knew that my heart had its awakening in that on* | chanted summer timb, and that bis was the 1 hand that broke fcho'spell under which it had lain a life time*. , \ , Nothing changed my purpose, however.— A -few smiles brought Mr, Graham Lorrimer “ OUR COUNTRY—JIAV 1 XT ALWAYS BE RIGHT—BUT RIGHT OR WRONG OUR COUNTRY/’ to my feet. The offer I had looked, for was made and accepted; , I'wns the betrothed bride of him whom I not only did not love, but esteemed far less than that other in whose society I daily passed tho' happiest hours. In tho autumn we were to ho married. I had assented to everything my lover pro posed, until he urged me to hasten the'pre parations for my marriage that Earnest Sin clair might bo present at it before leaving for Europe. , The pang, swift and eftrange, which made mo catch my breath almost with a moan when this request was made, should have enlightened mo but did not. I refnsed cold- ly, saying merely that there was niuoh to bo doneandl would not ho-hurried, and then, uriheoding the surprised, half indignant look which James assumed, I abruptly left him in the library,.where the late family con clave bad been h-cM, I had meant to go to my room, hut I seem ed stifling';' seizing my garden hat, in I passed through the hall; I passed out through the grounds, and soou found myself in a “ bosky dell,” deep iti r’cc gvovo that surr rounded our-house. 1 flung myself down upon a sent,-and though the soft cool wipd fanned my cheek gratefully, I felt it burning with an excitement strange tniriy cold, calm life. “ I hate him, I hate him 1”. ,f exclaim ed,and I verily believe I did, at that moment, utterly detest the man with whom, in a few months, I was to stand before tlio alter, to whom I was to make those vows of love and obedience and trust that should, never bo ta ken lightly-.on any lips. few long I sat there, chafing In my soli angor, I know npt; but after a fiurqa familiar tread came along the mountain path the clustering shrubs wore parted, and with a thrill ofjoy I. met the gaze of Earnest Sin clair, as ho laughingly surveyed me. I ought to have boon enlightened, hut I was so ■self-centred, so unused to look beyond my self for my pleasures, that it did not even then occur, to rae.that the feeling t was ohoc irihing was one i incompatible with my situ ation of a betrothed wife. X, smiled back, all my anger gone, and Earnest, accepting my.mute invitation, came and sat by my side. I fell, into a subdued mood, as unusual to me as' -anger, and lis tened quietly as he talked of the scene before us of the days of that pleasant summer now so swiftly fleeting; of his expected.absence from the country, scarcely hooding the mean ing of his words till I suddenly found myself clasped in his arms, while he poured unt the story of a love as profound as his. being, as fond and true as his great heart. Surprise kept mo silent; and Conflicting emotions, I see it all, now. I loved him, and was betrothed to another. X non Id have crept to his arms as to the safe shelter of a dong coveted-home, but my vows ami my pride alike forbade it. Nature pvmijd have speech in that hour. ■ One great cry of sor row burst from my lips— 1 Oh, Earliest, my beloved !’ I said, clinging to the hands that held mine for one brief instant. Then I rose up, and moved from his side. ‘1 am prom ised to James ; you most never think of mo more.’ - I saw the joy light fade from his ej-e’S} the flush from bia.fpce. ’iTicii I hid rny fapojn my hands nnd.let the tears, that would not he restrained, flow freely. IVhen I looked up again ho was gone, and years -passed be- fore w« met again, 3Ti vo years later I stood, one sunmer'eve--' ning, at the embowered .gate of the bumble, cottage that was my homo. The brief splen dor of my life liad faded as the sunset glories wore oven then fading from the sky. Beau ty, fortune, home, all had been wrested from, me. Of all I possessed of wealth or kind; red, only Margaret rerfi'ained 11 nt<*, and tile pretty' cottage and foyv acres * Which now made our home. Yet i had never been so 1 happy, even amid the fcridnlphs of my bel lohooil, as now. ■ It needs not many words to (ell the story yf that lustrum, t half fulfilled my promise tp dames,Graham-Borrihibr; and hud reigned briefly over the city nidnsuiu viud the hvil- taut circle, that welcomed me with now do ight as the bride of the most distingnishei man in society, I .wus not I) ;i npy—l innl nob expected to be; Comicie noe whispered the sin of n marriage without love, I knew that I had comniittod a double wrong —tow- ard myself and toward him to whom I had pledged false vows. I was capricious in my. moods, ns haughty and cold!to my husband as I had been to my lover; > No man is pleased to meet (inly coldness from his wife. Ido not seek to shield Mr. Graham Lorriuier from the just condemna tion of his sin, but I cannot deny that on my own conscience is laid -a part of its heavy harden. Had I made one effort—the slight est—to make his home harpy ; had; I ever remembered my duties to him, or seemed to oare for aught hut my own Hellish pleasures; he might n.ot have strayed so wildly from the paths,of rec titude, and the sin and misery, and shame of his lot might have been aver ted. I was not blind to the attractions of thjtt beautiful woman through whom all this sor row mo and ray husband, hut I was so accustomed to believe superior, in personal beauty and one else,.that I had no forebodings of the end.— My pride made me angry when I saw that I’ was sometimes openly neglected for her, but I did not love my husband well enough to feel jealous, and therefore never guessed the foiW-which were being woven about blip. It needs not that I enter into detail. Suf fice that, so gradually that I suspected noth ing, my husband transferred all his property to foreign lands. Unsuspiciously, in my utter ignorance of business, I set my name to whatever papers he or his steward presen ted me often without knowledge to their na ture. Add at‘ last I roao'ono morning to find myself deserted, penniless, to learn that my , husband had fled with the siren who for months had been luring him on to his de struction. ■ I went home to my father’s house. I was welcomed with open arras, but the old famil iar places were home no longer. I was mis erable enough. My pride revolted against my situation, and, angry, disappointed, em bittered against all the world, I dragged out weary days of fruitless complaining., I was to learn a lesson of sorrow more real and vivid than this. Ode morning a dispatch came to our coun try home, requesting my mother and myself to proceed at once to the oity, and containing K vague intimation of danger to my father.— Alarmed and excited,’we wore soon'at the station, whote a train was due. The train was behind time—f remember waiting what seemed a.dreary hour.for it —-and no sooner wore wo seated than it dashed-off at such, furious speed as, had my thoughts nrtt been . so wholly. concentrated on my distressing errand, would have filled mo with alarm, and with'reason.. . . - . - We had hardly passed Yonkers, when a collision with jin upward'bound train occur red. Of t'nis I have no memory after the flrst'tcmfit crash;' Days and weeks of utter CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, NOYE blankwconsoiousnesa 'followed—then more days of struggling uncertainty; and then I learned that, save Margaret, I was utterly alone. 1 had lost ail on that fatal day fortune, beauty, parents, home! in to,-a brief sentence or two may bo compressed its story. My fattier hud been for some time engaged in certain gigantic speculations that gradu ally had absorbed his entire wealth. ‘ A sud-. den crash tottled flown Tiro airy fabric -he had built. Already aged and feeble, the shock prostrated ,his remaining strength.— lie fell, innn attack of apoplexy, and died without having recovered sufficiently to be removed from iris counting room. In the collision, my poor mother was killed instantly,. probably without -a pang,.- and mercifully spared ihe.knoo'ledgo of my fath er’s death., And how shall 1 tell the sad tale? when I recovered it nr aa to find my self a mere wreck of the brilliant creature I had. been, overy’vestige of my-once glorious beauty vanished forever. ; I .had adittlo cottage and a,few surround ings; tho legacy of a deceased aunt." It fvas my solo possession; and thither Margaret and 1 repaired, glad, to find a sale and quiet shelter beneath its humble roof. ; . Two vents had wo lived .there forgotten by the world,' in tiro deepest seclusion, when Ernest Sinclair presented himself oive moan ing at our door. He oamc to tell that at Inst I wasfroo from my legal bondage to the man who had forkakdii me. Mr. Graham Lorri iner had died ip Paris a few months previ ously, and Ernest was the hearer of his dy ing message of remorse to mo, and of such remnants of his once largo fortune ns had escaped the .ravages of the life he, h.td led c»o^gH r at least to keep poverty from the door. • Ernest Sinclair cainc often to us, and was ever welconio. Time passed, and t,he vows once repulsed wer® 'renewed. He loved me still, an I how proud I was of that love which had attracted all men to me in past years. We were plighted, mpl I was happy in the present, happy in t!Hc 'promises oT tho faturo. But that summer evening, standing at my vice embowered' gate, I caught my last glimpse’ of happiness. As I waited for my lover, Margaret came creeping to my side, and told mb, with many tears, that she was going out from that shelter, because she could not live to witness my happiness. To mo she had.always been tho plain and inao tractive child. T forgot fhnt she had become the sweet and ploasant Whrmm. Even as she spoke, something whispered to mo that her unsullied youth might be preforred'to my wrecked and marred woman the heart of Ernest was even then divided. I bade her go in and ho of good cheer. And when Ernest came I bade him tell me, truth fully, if my suspicions were correct. It matters not howl learned the truth, hut that nightT laid Margaret's hand in his, and knew, that henceforth all the davs of tny ap* pointed life mint he spent in loneliness.—- Years have passed, and falling health warns me that.the and is near, and so. with feeble bund I trace the s;v\ story of a life useless, but to point a'knoral. or serve as a warning to my sex. XT Tho system of employing snh«lit«tes was practiced to n certain extent in, the revo lutionary war. Mr Elijah Huylm-d. now or very recontlya resident of Now York' city, and nearly one hundred years old, engaged as a substitute during the wa of indcpch douc. at Hartford, Conn., where he was horn, in consideration of a-cow, a suitable outfit of,- clothing, one blanket, a few farming utensils and twelve hu&hela of wheat per month. OCT The last .dodge of the conscript desert 'evs is to don a Confederate uniform aud come into campasdcsorters. They are then sentto Washington take the oath of allegiance and are forwarded to the .North, Seven were caught at this game’last week. U/Y’-A few days since n gentleman, Itoing beyond the limits of Ids neighborhood, asked a negro if the rend lie was traveling led to a certain place. Guffce gave the required in’ formation, but seemed curious to know .who the stranger, was,, as welies his-eceupatioiu For the fun of the. thing.the traveler conelu ded to, humor 15bony a little, a.i.id,.tlio follow big dialogue ensued : 4 My name is’ , and'-ns to the business I follow., if you are at afl.apiart you can guess that frorn -jiuy appearance,’ Can’t you see that T lim a timber cutter V ,‘ No,, boss, you no' timber cutter.’ ■■ ‘ An overseer, then ?’ • No, sir, you no look dike one.’ ‘ Whgt.say you fo my being a doctor,?’, ‘ Don’t think so, bpss—dey"don’t ride ib.a sulkcy.’ ‘ Well how do you think I would do for a' preacher V - ‘ I sorter specs you is dat sir.’ • Pshaw, Cufi'cc,' you are a greater fool than I took you for. U.m’t X look more-like a law yer than anything else V K • Nosiree, Bob, you don’t dat.’ ‘Why’Coffee?’ , ’ < Why, now you see boss, I’e been tidin' wid you for inoro’n a mile, tin’ you hain’t cussed an’ a lawyer always cusses.’ An editor out West gives the following notice: —‘ Our, purse' is lost 1 The finder is requested to return.it, being careful not do disturb its contents, which were a brass rule, a piece,of loaf, tobacco nicely twisted, the slump of a cigar, and a very good leather string.’ ‘I am glad this coffee don’t owe mo any thing,’said Brown, a hoarder, at the break fast table. ‘Why?’ said Smith. ‘ Because,’ said Brown, ‘ I don’t believe would over settle 1’ A fle-T.ui.nn.— A newsboy rushed into a retail atoreon IXauover street, the other day,', and thus accosted the proprietor : . ‘ Say, Mister, do you retail shirts hero ? ‘ Yea, my sou; we have them ,tp ftt you. at one dollar each—very nice ones.' * Oh, bhvr.es / I don’t want a whole one.— But X seed on your sign : Shirts retail and \wholesalo, and I thought you might re-tail mine, Xor it' wants' it hadj a’ dbg got hold of it, and wouldn’t let go if I'd kill'd him.’ 1 An exchange comes to us With a notice that ‘ Truth’ is crowded out of this issue.— This is almost as had as the country editor who said, ‘for the evil effects of intoxicating' drink see our inside.’' ' A Litths girl who had.ofton contemplated the very aged appearance of her grandmoth er of more than eighty years! hbr face wrin kled and time worn, rub up to tier one day. and asked, ‘ Oraiuirilithor wage you alive when God made the world ' ",(£7»“lf I’m drafted" I'll go The last seen of the individual who made, .this remark a year ago ho' Was goings-to Canada.’'" TOR A, 1863; Hints lo Housewives. Asa,general rule, it is moat economical to buy the best article. The price is, of course, always -a little higher; hot good articles spend best. It is a sacrifice of money to buy poor flour, meal, sugar, molasses, butter, cheese, lard, etc, to say nothing of the injurious effect upon the health, . . .-, ( , Of. West India molasses, the Santa Oruz ■and Porte Kico are considered the host. The Havana is seldom bought clean. "White su gar from Brazil is sometimes very good;— Refined sugar,uauhlly contains most of the saocharivto substance, therefore there in .prob ably more economy in using loaf, crushed and granulated sugars than we should at first suppose. Butter that in made in Septemlier'.and Oc tober is best for winter use. Lard- ahorild bq hard and white; and that which is taken from a liognpt liver a year old is heat. Rich cheese feels soft under the pressure of the finger. That .which is very strong is nei-, ther good nor healthy. To keep one. that is cut, tie it up in a bag that will not admit flies, and,hang it in a cool, dry place. If mould appears on it, wipe it off with a dry cloth. Flour and meal of-all kinds should he kept in a cool, dry place. ,* The best rice is large, .and has a clear, fresh look. Old rice sometimes has little hiackin seots inside the kernels/ The small white sago, catldJ pearl sago, is; (ho best. The largo brown kind has ah ear thy taste. These articles, and tapioca, ground rice, etc,, should bo kept covered. The cracked cocoa ie the beat; but that which is put up in pound papers ,is often very good.-. To selqct nutmegs, prick them with a pln. If they are good, the oil will instantly spread around tho puncture. , JCeep co,(Tec hy itself -as its odor affects oth er articles. Keep tea in a close chest or can ister. ■ ' Oranges and lemons keep best wrapped close in and "laid in a drawer of Wdvcri a cask of’ molasses is bought, draw off a few quarts, else a-fomentatiun produced by moving it will burs!; tho cask." Bread aud cake should be kept in-a tin bos or sconce jar.' ' , , . Salt ood should be kept In‘a dry place where tho odor of it will apt affect the'air of the house. The best kind is that which is called Dun, from its ’pocwji-ar odeyi. Fish skins for clearing coffee should he washed, dried, cut small and kept in a box or paper bag. Soft soap should he kept in a dry place in th<o cellar, and should not be used till three months old. Bar soap should bo cut into pie ces of a convenient size, and laid where it will become dry. ■ It is well to keep it several weeks before usiug it; as it spends fast when it is new. • ' Discoveries at Rohe. —ln a letter address ed to the Paris Nation, M. Dneheatmy gives an interesting account of the discoveries late*. Iv made in the environs.of Rome, on the spot where Constantine defeated Muxtmtias, that is, near premcra. outside the Porta del P«i-. nolo. On one-of the hills of that locality a villa bolievcd to have bclonged to Ca-lpurnin, OiTsar's. wife, haa.lhis year been entirely ex burned. One of the conduit pipes found on the spot bears the name of that lady. At an insignificant depth below tho surface of the soil, a suite of rooms has been found; which must have been the ground floor of the villa. The walls,of one of these rooms arc decora ted with painted landscapes; them represents a grdvo of. palm and orange, trees, with fruits and birds on the branches. Tiro colors tiro perfectly well preserved, and as vivid as if they had been painted but a few days.ago. The ceilings have fallen in, bgt from the r fragments it is easy to perceive that they were decorated with serial -figures similar to those discovered at Pompeii. .Glass nnd pottery have also been found on this spot-, hut live £reat object of attraction Is ti beautiful marble statue of- Agustua, in bis triumphal robes, open enough to reveal.a richly sculptured breastplate, the, subjects of which are Home with a cornucopia, and the twins by her side; Apollo with his, lyre, mounted on a. hippogryph ; Diana-with a heart. Mars sheathing his sword, a trophy, and a triumphal car drawn by four horses, and proceeded by winged figures of Victory. The feet of this statue are broken off, but not lost; one of them is flanked by a cupid on a dolphin. The statue is 2* metres in height, and bears evident traces of paint on its sur face: The busts of Septimus Severoa, lua wife, and his son Geta, have also been found. MaukugE’,—lf there is a tie deemed snored on earth, and holy in a brighter land, tis that which hinds man to hjs kindred spirit to, become ns one in unity and love; and yet it rarely happens that he properly appreciates the kindness and sincerity of the female heart, by setting right vnluo on a geni so pro ductive of happiness to the possessor.. There is nothing in life so pure nnd devoted as the unquenchable love of woman—more priceless than the gems of Goloonda, and more devout than tlio idolatry of Mecca.-is the unsealed and gushing tenderness which flows from the fount of the female heart. It may hero with propriety bo asked, what so often enhances the sorrow of the female heart, causing many anxious ‘days and sleep-, less nights? Is it not far the inconstancy of man? For whoso sake docs she hid adieu to to the home of her childhood ? For whom does she leave the loved father and the doting mother nnd the sweet sister who played with, her in infancy ? /To whom does she cling with a fond embrace, When nil but her have for sakonhim? •• ■ A Great CtraiosiTv.—On Saturday last, ns one of the masons, at the West Harrisburg market hbu'sc, was dressing one of the stones of which the building is being constructed, upon chipping off a block, ho found a largo petrified rattlesnake in .the inside. The snake lain* a most wonderful state pf preserva tion.- The scales',are perfect, the .back bonq is clearly defined', and.it is one of the most interesting specimen of 'petrefaotion probably ever.discovered. The gentlemanly superin tendent! of tho work,'. Mr. Swartz, has possession of the reptile at present.— Bai'risburg' Union. O” The lady who passed a five cent piece in one ,ot the horse cars in Boston, last Tues day, was very much confusqd'.hy the wonder-; ing gaze of the other passengers. Tho con ductor examined'tho piece verycarefully to satisfy himself that it was genuine. CC7~ Jrahy a sweetly fashioned month has hoim disfigured and made hideous by the fiery serpent tongue within. The. nian who attempts to measure every,body else by himself, had hotter trim the pattern very carefully. How Jimmy Jmjwlcii a Flavor to flic Vofke. The wife of our friend being in delicate health, it was resolved that a girl should be procured to do tlie housework, that-the lady might.have an,opportunity to recover health j and spirits. After visiting the intelligence office for,-two or three mornings, a fine, box om lass .of about twenty years of ago, but aUr. months from ‘ the owld sod,”'was selected, and instructed as to the duties that would ho expected of her- .. . . ‘ Now.itbeiiy’ aaysthe lady, 'pdnr ffib gromril CoffdeVt'.to the,pot, .Ikon pour in the lint water, aqd, aftqr.a few minutes’ boiling, put in ouo- Kivlf of rin.cgg,,s6,' and the lady elucidated such demonstration by illustration. ‘You understand, don’t you ?’ says the holy. ■ ./'lndeed 5 do, innnj" was-tho rc.spuiißp.jr -?’Ue the. coffee, grind ip the water, 1 -and put in tho half of an'egg. Isn’t that it, mum?’' ‘ All right,’ replied the lady. * Now then, to-morrow morning, wo’Jl see how well yon morrow - morning -came,-and the.coffee w-aaVs good as co-aid be expected. The tliird morning came, and. to tlie astonishment.of our friend and wife, the coffee was undrink able and nauseating; even tho odor of it wfis sickening. Bridget was called, and ques tioned-as .follows-; - ‘ Bridget, did you first put the ground cof fee'in the pot,?? ‘lndudol did, mum.’ • Bid you tlieu put in the hot rrater?’ ( Sure I aid.’ How lon# did yon let it Ijoil ?’ I'ivc jninutes, mum.’ iiid you put in the egg?’ 5 did, inmn.’. Just ns I showed yon the other morning'” ‘.Well, .to tell the Ihruth, mum,’ says get. giving her garment a twitch with her brawny hand, 1 to tell the thruth, I a-oitU not pat in the half of the egg* as yi> toxvhi mo, but the egg was a bad one, and L thought ye wouldn’t mind kaping the half of it, so I put; in the emitter ns it.was,l’ Aromatic coffee, that. WesbmslA call it infantile chicken soup. - ™«; BEnaa, Nahwo has supplied the must .of mankind wi 5)1 beards, and,in very ancient (hires, t a ’ r .’ use of a rutor upon it was unknown. In Greece, 'the first instance of shaving occurred in the reign of Alexander the Great. This warriWordcred the Macedonians to he slav ed lest the beards of his soldiers should aff ord handles to their enemies. The sarcastic Diogenes, when he once saw some one whose ■chin was smooth, said?'*s am tlfraid you think you have great. ground to accuse mi, turo fur having made you a man and not r, woman.’ In Cicero's time the genuine heard was tint .worn in society. Hut- the baiiada (goatee) seems to have boon affected by the • young-Uoman “ swells." -• The beard began to revive again in the time of the Emperor Hadrian. .But” fit all the emperdra.who wore that ornament, none creates bo, nnic'h interest in posterity .us the emperor Julian. * His board is the must fa mous beard in history. Speaking of it, he says; ‘‘leommen.ee with my countenance. , It hud nothing regular, or-particularly agree able about it; and out of humor wad,whimsi cality, and yust to punish it fur nut being handsome, I have made it ugly by carrying this long and peopled beard.' _ ( The Brittons, like the ancient Gauls, al lowed the hair to grow thick un the bond; and, although they shaved their iloarda elijitp un the chin, wore immense tangled mousta ches, which aometimes reached their breasts. It may be presumed that the northern na tions folt lbo symbolic force of tbtji’e epppjv dagos; we have a well-known passage in Tacitus about; the Catt}, who says, made a general custom of what, among other Ger man people was an affair of private daring the letting the f'winqnf’batliamipio’ grow till they had killed, an enemy. The Xurmans, when they conquered England, were .well shaven, .on the hack of the head as on the face ; hut the Saxons wore full hoards. In Edward 11.’ 6 reign, beards were worn apparently by persons in years, great officers of Slate,.and knights templars, bat not gen erally. Sir John Mandqvillo, tbe traveler, who died. A. I). 1372, was cabled Sir John with the Beard (persumabiy from its size.) In Edward lll.’s time—the bey day of chiv alry, of feudal ornonmjijt,' ..of law poetry, uf heraldry—long beard and fine mustache were in honnVable estimation. Ip , Richard ll.’s reign, tbe fashion continued. The beard was 1 forked/- and in all knightly effiges tbe mnstacbo is long and drooping on each side of tbe mouth.- .. . A sober and well govcrneii'gcntlenian of Elizabeth's time, regulated bis board as lie. did his dress, mind, manners or conduct. It was an Jndex of bis status-or profession; an emblem of his feelings and tastes —a symbol to bo respected like l>is coat of arms. The I’efovmcr, John Kuos, cherished a large and* profuse one, obviously from its patriarchal character,-from the honor shown it .in the Jewish dayvfroni'.whose sentiment, hd drew his inspiration, i’ho scholar, snclpas George Buchanan. wore in one who followed Knox and Calvin. The hair, as wc ail know, played an im portant symbolic part in tbe civil wars of England ; and the same rigm- which theddu ritan exercised on the head he exorcised on his chin, and trimmed his Retir'd ns closely as bo trimmed his looks. The ■ Vandyke heard is the typical one of tb.ia period.— Peaked bcards'and mustnclies wpre popular among the cavaliers ; aitd were at least pret ty generally worn. ,Heards went out of fashion for move than two hundred years, junong, tbe .Anglo Sax ons,of Europe and America; but they have been ■ revied again, and are how cultivated-** and defended upon scientific considerations. The mustache is approved hccnuse.it is said to bo a natural rbspi.rjitur ;a" defense, to tbe lungs against tbe inhalation, of dust, and the beard is defended as a protection for the throat against .Qpjd. It has been, recommen ded that ajl preachers who are subject to throat dvssdkes should allow tlioir beards to grow. Travelers in sandy regions, millcra/ baiters and all mechanics should allow tbs beard free play. JSQI" Crazy ns George the Third was said to have bean, there -was evidently a method in his madness at tipies. Speaking tn Atph- Bishop Sutton of, bis large family, he used the expression, ‘I believeyour grace has bet ter than a dozen?’ ‘No, sire,’-replie'd the Arch-Bishop, ‘ only eleven.’ .‘Well,’ rejoin ed the King, 4 is not that bettor than a doz en?* ' ... - „■ , BIT” Every young lady.knows hopJovor by. heart. But that’s often, a very uncertain kind of Knowledge. . B3T” Fashionable moejety has generally two fan Us-r first, ip, being hollow headed, and second, in being holiW hearted. 017* Cider becomes spur by working ; men’ minds get bo by not working'. . _ . 0«r Chip Snskel. O” (live neither counsel nor salt till you nro asked for it. tiKiy* The more the merrier, the fewer the bettor cheer. \ . ttZTTXovcr trouble trouble till trouble trou hies you. OCT* The (Jog wags his tail, not for you but for the brohi. O’ 'l’Uc fox is very cunning, buthols moro cunning.who catches him, O* “ Short Virata-nro-the. best,” as the fly said when be lit. on the stove. C7”ll r hat ohuroh'do yon attend, Mrs. Par- apy parados ebureh whore the. Gospel is dispensed with 1 1 _ V- hV' re matrimony liho a hoBiej;od city ? B(-cause lliose who are in it wish to.bo u\U, and 'those who are out wish to bc in If a man is. h'pvrc.crcd l)y, his own Kited men should the coroner find it verdict of kill ed by iiis'cin'n hands? - is n town dcwiveash, where the people arc so opposed to committing an assault that it is with difficulty they can ho persuaded to strike a tune in church. O’Tliu true way o,f, reaching the right ia through th.e heart of the wrong ; he who goes around it finds'hut the other side of wrong, and.the wrong side of right. i O*A soldier,, who was jarrestod for^terd 1 jug a rebel’s-’ao.«sei, ?a’ l< i he- found the ’bird hissing at the American flag, and arrested it for treason. i .i’llo police/r-rs After the perpetrator of tho followingcnnimurittn •: he.is /l JnyeSy young lady, dike a hinge?' EecW.se sheds some thing to a-duroi , , • Was your son engaged before he wont to the Var'lV asked Kvs.tßdgjk'ofh neighbor. . ‘ No, but ho has had several engagements since,’ she replied. ‘Why.don’t ynnr father take a newspaper?’ said-a-gcnthianin to .a Uttlo.nrehin;, whom ho caught in the act of pilfering one from his door step. . ■ . ■ ‘ OaustuiieTsends mo to take it.’ Dresses ntc'do&ing.dow.o. Tho sign, before the door of a.ninntua maker’s shop, in the city, roads thus: “ A', ij.^-Dresses made lower than aver." . jjSfvif you wish, your, neighbors to notloo you, buy aiiog and tie him up.'in tho cellar nil night. They won’t sleep for thinking.of you. • fry Flnve said that if mon should rise from tho dead and,read their epitaphs, some of them wduld'think they had got into the wronggravo. .. XT” Wirv wap Adam the .best runner that ever lived ! Because ho was the first in ti e human rare. ‘ _ The richest genius,, life? .the,roost fertile eoil when uncultivated-, ichcots up la the rank, est weeds ; and instep-j of vines and olives for the pleasure and use of man, produces to ifs .slolbfiil owner the most abundant crop uf poisons.' . , . , . jt tavern .ItCcjpolr at Leigh, Lancashire,.En gland, is apparently thd proud to adopt..the usual sign of his calling, nnd prefers to an, nounce it by the somewhat pithy inscription fust .oyer his doorway—‘ Mv Sign’s in the Uellnr.' . XT’ Among ‘the addresses presented upon the-accession of James I, was one from the ancient town of Shrewsbury, wishing, his majesty might rein ns long ns tho sun, tho on and stars endured. ‘ Faith;,.mon,’ said the King t<i thci person who presented it, ‘ my son then must reign by candle light.’ ■ hat strange creatures girls' arc.—- Offer one of them good wages to work for yap, and, ten .chances to One,.if-the ‘ old wo* man, cc« spare any of her y iris'-rbat just nrppuso matrimony, and see if they don't jump'at the chance of working n lifetime for victuals and clothes. i JS@/7','i,'bat,jvas a very ipretly copcoiioaf is, roniar.tio husband nnd fr.tlitr Vvboso ’ftßinof was Hose, who named .his daughter JiWild,’ so that she grew, up under the appellation ‘,iyibl Uose/ But the romance of the name wa».fiidly spoiled in. a few ycaps,- for she married a man by.the name',of * Hijll.’ O’" Pat was hungry, and got off the dars for refreshments.' The cars very thought-, lowly went -on. ‘Xo spalpeen V he Cried, Utar, ling..pn a r.un apj shaking his fist as be flew afloi*'them, ‘atop there, yd old stamp wnggin, yc murtliorin stanio engine, .ye’.vo got a passenger aboardtbat’s leltjbehiud '/ 'Mr. Timntliy," said n learned lady, will) had been shoeing off at the expense of a dangler, “yini remind m of a hnrauieter’ that iei filkdVith noth Vagit) the upper story’,’ "Uivino Almira, - '' meekly replied her ador er, "iti .thpilkipg you (or that compliment, let auV rauiuej. you that you occupy the upper story entirely ” A'\, Opinion’ ;dn Monoas.—lt is’related that an I'M Wr.niivo. ventured nut in the midst of Morgan nmi his-' men 'in a little tuwn in. Indiana, ami inquired of a rebel,, who was silting backward upon Ms frame,’ 1 Whar is ilio gaynller V ‘ I)’yc mean John Morgan!’ ‘ Vivas, jest so. ’■ „ . I- • i ‘ Tlicro lie. is,’ said the rob, pointing to John* ■ ' c ' . " ■' ■■■ ‘ Well/ said the old lady, eyeing him from head to foot, ‘ We've, got hotter lopkin! bar re, thieves nor him in lloooier, an’ less said about ’em too.’ . . .... 03?” When Gen. Lafayette was in the :Uni-) led States, two young men wore introduced to bin). lie said to one: . 4 Are yhu married?’," , 4 Yea air,’ wits the reply. ■' ■ 4 Happy man,’ quoth the General, He put the same question to the-other, who replied; . 4 1 atp a bachelor.’ ■ 4 Ctiluoky dog.f.eatd the Gefibral.., i- , i .This'is the beat essay on matrimony ex tant. . ’ ■ . , Avoio DeobpWo.v Persons who practice deceit and artifice always deceive themselves ippre than they .deceive others. They may foci groat complacency in view of the success of their doings ; but they ore in reality cast ing a midst before their own eyes. Such persons not only make a false estimate of their own character! but they estimate.false . )y the opinion and conduct of others; No person is obliged to .tell all hp.thlukyj bqth tluty and self interest forbid luta eveif to r make false pretences. ■ NO. 21. ' ' 1. „ ■ I
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers