Whole No. 2657. E£AD! READ! READ! IHMMM •• I? there a man with soul so dead, >Vlio never to himself hath said, My own, my native land 1" i },'[) now, when patriots look for the ear ly return of peace and prosperity and a tneral resumption of business with assur ance, we are pleased to inform the public [hat a large, new, and carefully selected stock ~'f goods has just been opened at the Old tiand of JOHN KENNEDY & Co., comprising 5 ieueral assortment of pry Goods, Groceries. Stone and Queensware, Willow and Cedar Ware, fish, Salt, Ham, Shoulder, Flitch and Fried Beef, Cheese. Sugars, Syrups, Coffee, Teas, Spices, Staps. Tobacco, Segars, Dried Fruit, Turpen tine and Faints of all kinds. Linseed Oil, Fish Oil, I'otty and Window Glass, Coal Oil, sod a large assortment of Coal Oil Lamps and Chimneys. Our Stock will be sold at a small advance to Country Merchants. As we buy for cash, 3 nd in large quantities, we sell LOW. Country Produce taken in Ex change for Goods. Kemember, one door below the Black Bear Hotel. JOHN KENNEDY, Agt. April 10, 18G2— ly PATENT COAL OIL GREASE. THIS Grease is made from COAL OIL, *- and has been found by repeated tests to be the most economical, and at the tame time the best lubricator for Mill irnriog, ."stages, Wagons, Carts, Carriages, Vehicles of all kinds, and all heavy bearings, seeping the axles always cool, and not requir ing thein to be looked after for weeks. It has been tested on railroad ears, and with one soaking of the waste it has run, with the cars, 3),u00 miles ! All railroad, omnibus, livery •able and Express companies that have tried i: 'renounce it the ittplus ultra. It combines the body and fluidity of tallow, tieeswux and tar, and unlike general lubrica nts, will not run off, it being warranted to stand any temperature. 1 have it in boxes 2f to 10 lbs. Also kegs sad barrels from 30 to 400 lbs, for general use and sale. The boxes are more prefera blt; tliej are G inches in diameter by 2} inches deep, and hold 2\ lbs net; the boxes are clean, stid hardly a carman, teamster, expressman, antler or farmer, that would not purchase tie box for trial. F. G. FRANOISCUS. Lewistown, February 12, 18G2. LEWISTOWN BAKERY, tte>C Market Street, nearly opposite the Jail. / 10NHAD ULLRICH. JK. would respect- V fully in form his old customers and citi fns generally that lie continues the Linking BREAD, CAKES, &c., at the above stand, where those articles can If procured fiesh every day. families desiring Bread, >4c. will be sup <"• >1 at their dwellings in any part of town, fruit, Pound, .Spunge, and all other kinds of C'ike, of any size desired, baked to order at pb irt notice. Lewistown, February 20, 18G2-ly IH\\ E on hand some very choice garden . seeds, embracing the earliest vegetables grown, such as Peas, Cabbage, Cauliflower, £*• F. G. FRANCISCUS. PLOWS ! PLOWS ! Sol>, Subsoil Plows. McYeytown Plows, Wings, Shares, &c., for sale by F. G. FRANCISCUS. j i BGZ. Coal Oil Lamps—as* serfs and si v' 'zes, from 31 cts. to sls 00 each, m!- F. O. FRANCtSCUS. I)UILLIANT Gas Burner, and a large vn- U riety of Parlor and Boom Stoves, for ede at very low prices, by °ct3o F. G. FRANCISCUS. Hames and Traces. \\ AGON I lames at 50 cts. per pair. Tra tin- CUri ' & c - at 75 cents per pair. All kinds of Chains usually sold in hardware stores, sold at low rates, by mt G2 F. G. FRANCISCUS. ph'fIVATORS, Cultivator Teeth and Points, at reduced prices from past seas- a &8, for sale by F. O. FRANCISCUS. F ARM Ell S ? r0 buy cheap for cash, Go tc Hoffman's for Chains. Go to Hoffman's for Forks. Go to Hoffman's for Spade Shovels. Go to Hoffman's for Iron, &c. March 19, 1862. D COAX. OIX. OWN again! Be6t No. lat 9 cts. per f L"art, at HOFFMAN'S. RIO Coffee, extra, at 29 cts per lb, at feb2G - HOFFMAN'S. BEST QUALITY COAL OIL, p at 10 cents per quart, * fj r sale by N. KENNEDY. V tt u y °beap, - Hoffman's the store for Cedarware. Hoffman's " Table Cutlery. Hoffman's " Groceries. Hoffman's •' Wall Paper, offman's " Oilcloths. wEßßwim ASO are BmraiwMßnb sumyiKLiisy THE MWNMI, A SOLDIER'S LETTER. HOSPITAL April . I writ© with a {treat deal of pain, dear irirl I ve not been able before since the fight— And my brain is still so much in a whirl, 1 hat I can tell you but little to-night. lin wounded!—Jon t start—'tis not rery bad, ~.yr at least it might be worse; so I said, wheu I thought of you, 'l'm sure she ll b© glad I o know that Ini only wounded—not dead.' I ee lost my left arm—there! now you know all! A Minnie ball shattered it. and I fell; I lie last that I heard was our Captain's call, .. ■ T l ! le rest is 100 P&inful to tell. vt * n ai ' throughout the most excellent care, And am doing finely, the surgeon says: BO well, indeed, that the prospect is fair For a homeward trip before many days. Rut I've something else, dear .Marv, to say, And I'd say it if it cost me my life; I v- thought of it well—there's no other way— I- ,!} RP from your promise to be HIT wife! lon I! think rne foolish at first; then you'll think Of the loose, armless coat-sleeve at my side; And your proud and sensitive heart will shrink 1- rom the thought oi' being a cripple's bride. 'Tis a bitter struggle to give you up, For I've loved you more than ever of late; But down to its dregs I've drained the cup, And I'm calm, though my heart is desolate. I'm coming home, and of course we must meet; My darling, this once, one boon I implore— Ret us still be friends—for that will be sweet, Since, now, alas: we can be aothing more. THE ANSWER. SWEET HOME, April My Robert, how brave and noble you are! Too brave and too noble, I know for me; Hut you've too little faith in ine by far If you believe 1 waut to be free. I'm not released from my promise—no, no 1 "I'was uerer so sacred to me before; If you could but know how I've longed to go And watch by your side, you'd doubt me no more. I read your name in the terrible list, But the tears froze back that sprung to my eye; And a fearful pain, that I could not resist, t'rushed my heart till { oniy longed to die. The blessed tears, by-nd-by, came agatOi And 1 lelt, as you in your letter said, A feeling of glauness, mid all my pain. That Robert was only wounded—not dead. Oh. darling! to think you have suffered so, And I allthese long, weary miles away; You've needed me very often, 1 know, While 1 could do nothing but hope and pray. But hardest of all is the bitter thought That you have been suffering so much for me; Poor Robert! your manly letter has brought A strange melange of |oy and misery. But you're coming home to my arms and heart; You're right—l <i//i proud and sensitive too; But I'm only so when we are apart. And now—l shall only be proud of you! You're coming home to happiness and rest, And I wait the moment of blissful calm, When I shall be held to a Soldier's breast By a i'atriot-llero's one strong arm! Blnrknt'jne, Mats., April, 1562. TAKE YOUR CHOICE. I always did intend To take to me a wife •Single"my lite to spend Would grieve my very life If much delighteth mo To think upon a bride To live from woman free I ear't be satisfied Its sure a happy life 'Tis woman is the thing To live without a wife Such troubles on us bring A female to my mind The joy I can't express I ne'er expect"to find So great in singleness A bachelor To live 1 never could agree My mind 1 freely give A married man to be. P. S.— Bead first each verse separately, then both verses as if there was but one. Edited by A, SMITH, County Superintendent. pwf the Education.,! Column. Childhood's Memories. 'Die memories of childhood's prime, How they twine about the heart ! Like the n"u>s that mantles grim decay. Of life they are the brightest part. The old man, in his retrospect, Is ever most beguiled Itv the cherished memories of the spot Where he sported when a child. In the long, dim vista of the past, He views no scene so fair As the cot where first he saw the light, And felt a mother's care. The sunshine of that first foud home Still lingers in his eyes. And its warmth upon his aged heart Like a blessed vision lies. The mist that veiled his sight has fled, Again he is a child; His footstep is as light and free, His laugh as clear and wild. He eeks each well-remembered nook, The rose tree by the wall, The hillside sloping to the brook, The misty water-fall. The mossy spring so deep and cool, The arbor and the vine, The trellis where bis sister's hand Trained tho sweet Columbine. He hears tho oriole's dulcet notes In the old homestead tree; The tinkling of the distant bell, The tuprmur of the bee. Once more unto the stream he loved, With birchen rod, and line, He hies to lure the titnid trout As in the days dang syne." He bounds along the wood-land path, A fair one by his side— A sister who, long years ago, ' In her youthful beauty died.' She sleeps within the churchyard bound Amongst her kith and kin, — To join tnem, through its narrow gate He soon shall enter in. 'TYRO.' Msaauwiocs, THE WAY TO KEEP HIM. < Out again to-night ?' said Mrs. Hayej, fretfully, as her husband rose from the tea table and donned his great coat. 'Yes I have an engagement with Mr. Moore, I shall be in early; leave a light in the library.' ' Always the way,' murmured Lizzie Hayes, sinking back upon the sofa, ' out every night. I Jo at think he cares one bit about me now, and yet we've been mar ried but twp years. No man can have a more orderly house, lam sure; and I never go anywhere; lam not a bit extravagant; and yet I dog't believe he loves me any more. Oh! dear, why is it? I wasn't r i c h—he didn't marry me for my money, and he must have loved me then—why does he treat me with so much neglect ? — and with her mind filled with such fretful queries, Lizzie Hayes fell asleep on the sofa. Let ine paint her picture as she lay there. She was a blonde, with a small, graceful WEDNESDAY, APRIL 30, 1862. figure, and a very pretty face. The hair, which showed by its natural tendency to curl, was brushed smoothly back, gathered into a rich knot behind. ' It was such a bother to curl it,' she said. Her cheek was pale, and her whole face wore a discontented expression. Uer dress was a neat chintz wrapper, but she wore nei tlier collar or sleeves— 4 What's the use of dressing up just for William ?' said she. I/uzie slept soundly for two hours, and then awoke suddenly. She sat up, glanced at the clock, and sighed drearily at the prospect of the long intei val still to he spent alone before bed time. The library was just over the room in which she sat, and down the furnace flue, through the registers, a voice came to the young wife's ears; it was the voice of her husband. ' Well, Moore, what's a wan to do ? I was disappointed, and I must have pleasure somewhere. Who would have fancied that Lizzie Jarvis, so pretty, sprightly, and so loving, could change to the fretful dowdy she is now. Who wants to stay at home and hear his wife whining all the evening about her troublesome servants, and her headache, and all sorts of bothers ? She's got the nack of that drawling whine so pat, that I don't believe she can speak pleas antly.' Lizzie sat as if stunned. Was this true ? She looked in the glass. If not exactly dowdy, her costume was certainly not suit able for an evening, with only William to admire. She rose, and softly went to her own room, with bitter, sorrowful thoughts, and firm resolution to win back her hus band's heart, and Ihen, his love regained, keep it. The next morning William went into the breakfast room with his usual careless man ner, but a bright smile came on his lips as he saw Lizzie. A pretty chintz, with neat collar and sleeves of snowy muslin and a wreath of soft full curls had really meta morphosed her; while the blush her hus band's admiring glance called up to her cheek, did not detract from her beauty.— At first William thought there might be a guest, but g'ancing around, he found that they were alone. ' Come, William, your breakfast will be stone cold,' said Lizzie, in a cheery, pleas ant voice. ' It must cool till you sweeten it with a kiss,' said her husband, crossing the room to her side, and Lizzie's heart bounded as she recognized the old lover's tone and manners. Notone fretful speech, nor one complaint, fell upon William's ear throughout the meal. The newspaper, his usual solace at that hour, lay untouched, as Lizzie chatted gayly on every pleasant subject she could think of, warming by his gratified inter est and cordial manner. 'You will be homo to dinner?" she .said, as he went out. 'Can't to day, Lizzie; I have business out of town, but I will be honje eafly to tea Have something substantial, for I don't expect to dine. Good bye!' and the smil iog look, warm kiss, and lively whistle were a marked contrast to his lounging, careless gait, of the previous evening. ' I am in the right path,' said Lizzie in a low whisper, ' Oh '. what a fool I have been lor two long years ? ' A fretful dowdy !' William, you shall never say that again.' Lizzie loved her husband with real wife ly devotion, and her lip would quiver as she thought of his confidence to his friend Moore ; but like a brave little woman she stifled back the bitter feeling, and tripped off to perfect her plans. The graud piano, silent for months, was opened, and the lin en covers taken from the furniture, Lizzie thinking, ' He shan't find any more attrac tive than his own, I am determined.' Tea time came, and William came with it. A little figure, in tasty, bright silk dress, smooth curls, and oh ! such a lovely blush and smile, stood ready to welcome William as he came in, and tea time passed as the morning meal had done. After tea there wasno movement as usual towards the hat-raek. William stood up beside the table, lin gering, chatting till Lizzie rose. She led him to the light warm parlors ip their pretty glow of tasteful arrangement,andcre.w him down beside her on the sofa. He fjslt as if he was courting again, as he watched her fingers busy with some fancy needle-work, and listened to the cheerful voice he had loved so dearly two years before. • What are you making, Lizzie ?' ' A pair of slippers. Don't you remem ber how much you admired the pair I work ed f<u you ever so long ago ?' 'I remember them, black velvet with flowers on them. I used to put my feet upon the tender and dream of blue eyes and bright curls, and wish time would move faster to the day when I could bring my bonnie wife home to make music in my house. 1 Lizzie's face saddeaed for a moment as she thought of the last two years, and how little music she had made for his loving heart; gradually weaning it from its allegi ance —then she said ; 4 1 wonder if you love musio as much as you did then ?' 'Of course I do; I often drop into Miss Smith's for nothing else than to hear the music.' ' I can play and sing better thau Miss Smith,' said Lizzie, half pouting. 4 Hut you always say that you are out of practice, when I ask you.' 4 1 had the piano tuned this morning.— Now let us open it and hear how it sounds.' William obeyed joyfully, and tossing aside her sewing, Lizzie took the piano stool. She had a very sweet voice, not powerful, but most musical, and was a very fair performer ou the piano. { Ballads, Lizzie.' 4 Oh! yes, I know you dislike music in the parlor.' One song after another, with a nocturnal, or instrumental piece, occasionally,between, filled up the hour pleasantly. The little mantal clock struck eleven. 4 Eleven ! I thought it was but nine. I ought to apologize, Lizzie, as I used to do, for staying so late ; and I can say truly as I did then, that the time passed so pleasant ly, 1 can scarcely believe it is so late. The piano was closed ; Lizzie's work put in the basket, and William wa3 ready to go up stairs, but glancing back he saw his wife near the fire-place, her hands clasped, her haad bent, and large tears falling from her eyes, Ho was beside her in an instant. 4 Lizzie, darling, arc you ill 1 What is the matter ?' 4 Oh ? William, I have been such a bad wife ! I heard you tell Mr. Moore last even ing how I had disappointed you ; but I will try to make your home pleasant, indeed I will, if you will only forgive and love me.' 4 Love you ! Oh ! Lizzie, you capnot guess how dearly I love you !' As the little wife lay down that night she thought, 4 1 have won him back again ! Better than that, I have learned how to KEEP HIM.' Another Catholic Miracle. There are doubtless as many sensible ! and intelligent people among Catholics as in any other religious sect, but there are likewise a great many fools, rogues and putty-heads who profess to be devoted chil dren and servants of Mother Church at Rome. Among this latter class are the miracle-mongers who have lately sprung up in Franco and Italy. A 'ate Paris paper records another Catholic miracle to this ef fect: A peasant girl at Lourdes, on the banks of the river Gage, near the Pyrenees mountains, while gathering wood, was en ticed into a grotto by a beautiful lady dres sed in white, with a blue sash round her waist. The girl's name is Rcrnadette Sou birons, and she told such a plausible story of this apparition that the Bishop of Tur bos either believed, or protended to believe her. AY hen Rcrnadette had came into the cavern the beautiful lady announced her self to be the Y irgin Mary, the mother of (joJ. £he told the girl that the famous 4 Immaculate Conception,' about which Catholics have dilfered, is true and so forth, and she pointed out a pool of water where the sick could drink and be iiealpd. The celestial character of the apparition is held by the Rishop of Tarbes to be placed be yond all doubt by the great benefits which religion has already received, through the testimonies given to its truths at the grot to of 4 our Lady of Lourdes ' Not only have souls been converted, but bodies have been healed. The Rishop says it will cure every ailment incidental to man, woman and child, and that it beats homoeopathic and allopathic prescriptions out of the field. Cases that have resisted all the skill and efforts of the faculty have been successfully treated by this wonderful water. The de mand for it has become immense, and it is in request in every corner of France. The cures, he tells us, which it effects are pro duced by a water quite destitute of any natural property, it follows that they must be brought about by some supernatural property. The cures are the work of God. The lady in white, seen and heard by the girl Rernadette, is the Rlessed Virgin ! Are we not justified in asking, whether wo are really living in the ninth or the nine teenth century ? Habit of Exaggeration. 1 ? you alive if you do that again,' exclaimed a mother to a naughty child. It was a sert of hyperbolical ex pression that has crept into frequent use, with a multitude of expressions of similar character. She did not mean that she would flay her little one as a butcher would a calf or lamb. The execution of her own threat would fill her own soul with horror. She would not have strength to make such progress in the very barbarous work of skinning her child alive. It would not be motherly. ' I will whip you within an inch of your life,' said a father to his erring son. This would be a terrible whipping indeed. Com ing so near death's door with the rod would be revolting. Rut he did not mean this. He only meant he would administer a very severe chastisement. No one would be more careful than he not to jeopardize the life of his son. His expression was only a form of exaggeration which society seems to tolerate. How many preoisely such speeches are made in almost every circle. 'lt was done quick as lightning.' l lt is as cold as Greenland.' There is no end to such ex pressions. And they indicate that the hab it of exaggeration in the human family is very strong. Ilnman natures seem inclin ed to 'stretch the truth.' That is the reason that such strange stories arc told, often be coming magnified to such an extent, after passing through several hands. 4 A story loses nothing by traveling,' is an old say ing. It usually grows, like a ball which school follows roll. Every tongue that re peats it gives it additional turning over, by which it accumulates. None mean to ex aggerate. It is a fault however, is it not? May it "not be a sin .' It is entirely deceptive to tell a child that you will skin him alive, when you have no idea of perpetrating the infernal deed. Bhould we not talk as we mean ? Let our yea be yea and nay nay. At least this should be done to children. From tlie Bedford Inquirer. Meddling in Political Matters It is remarkable how fastidious some peo ple are upon some subjects. They cannot | think this and do that, because according to their delicate notions, such conduct is inconsistent with their position and unsuit ed to their profession. But it is still more remarkable that these fastidious people should find so much lault with the ministers of the gospel, who, in this dark hour of the country, have given their voice, their influence, and their prayers, in behalf of the efforts now being made to crush the rebellion, unparalleled in wickeduess, and to save a government, the best and most beneficent ever established by man. They say this is meddling in political matters — that clergy should stand aloof, and laymen alone should tend to such xcorldly affairs. It is not so. A conflict in which the very life of the government is involved is not a question of parties and politics—is not a political matter ;n the sense in which the word political is used by these grumblers, but is a political matter according to the true meaning of the term, and there is no consideration of spy kind, relating to heav en or earth, that absolves the patriotic preacher, any more that it does any other patriotic citizen from the high, solemn and religious duty of maintaining to the utmost of his power and influence, the government of his country. YVhy should not an Ecclesiastical Con vention lend its support to the government by a suitable expression of its sympathy with the men who are struggling to defend it? Why should not a christian preacher pray earnestly and devoutly, for the suc cess of the Federal armies, and for all the means to put down this accursed rebellion? Because the rebels are our brethren for sooth ! Oh! it is a fraternal war, and should be stopped! Let there be peace; peace, even though the government of the confederates should be established—the stars and stripes trampled in the dust—the Republic destroyed, and the hopes of man kind blasted forever. The Great Teacher declared that those only were his brethren vyho knew the will of God ant] did it. Our political brethren are those only who love the Union and the Constitution and are willing to risk all in their defence, not those who with parrici dal hands have raised the standard of re volt. The same teacher declared that they that are not for us, are against us. The sincere friend af any cause never doubts or hesitates, but cheerfully and earnestly gives his whole soul to its defence. These are the indications by which this and fu ture generations, will judge of the fealty and loyalty of men in these times of trou ble and danger to the government. Table of Distances. Taking Richmond as the centre, the fol lowing table shows at a glance the distance of different points in Virginia from there : Vile*. Fs>m Norfolk to Richmond 106 From Suffolk to Richmond 85 From Cape Ilenry to Richmond 150 From Hampton to Richmond 96 From Fortress Monroe to Richmond 99 From Yorktown to Richmond 70 From Williamsburg to Richmond CO From Fredericksburg to Richmond 65 From Washington to Richmond 130 From Winchester to Richmond 150 From Gordonsville to Richmond 70 From Staunton to Richmond 120 The rebel force* who make a pastime of burning and destroying villages, cities, railroads, and bridges, and stealing horses, cattle and negroes, hold up their hands in horror if a Union soldier burns a fence rail belonging to a man who has helped to clothe apd feed the rebel army. The Pennsylvania Regiments in BuelTs Command There appears to be much mis understamjipg ia relation to the proper numbers of the Pennsylvania regiments under Gen. Buell. The proper numbering is as follows: Seventy seventh, Col. Stam baugh, raised principally in the centre of the State, but contain two companies from Al legheny, Captains Roe and Robinson; Sev enty-eighth, Col. Sirwell, raised principally in Armstrong county; Seventy-ninth, Co!. Hambright, raised in Lancaster. Colonel Stambaugh's regiment is not in Negley's division, the other two are. Stambaugh's is in the fifth brigade, (Gen. McCook's,) of Buell's corps d' amice. In addition to the above, are Capt. Palmer's Independent cavalry company, (attached to Buell's head quarters,) and Colonels Wyukoop's and Williams' cavalry regiments from this State.— Harrisburg Telegraph. a goodly leg is lost in battle; thousands of brave fellows walk proudly into war and hop out of it. New Series—Vol, XVI, No. 26 The Stevens Battery. The appropriation for the Stevens Bat tery, says the National Intsliigencecr, has passed' both" Houses" of CofigresSf with'a ma jority ol more than two to one in its favor, thus showing their decided opinion as to its efficiency. To the bill is anuexed a proviso leaving it to the Secretary of the Navy to decide whether the vessel when' finished well be an 4 efficient' war steamer. In view of this expression of opinion on the part of Congress, we do not doubt that the Secretary will hihiself debide this point favorably, and give to the country a tfar vessel which, in the judgment of experts, is destined from its impregnability, unpre cedented speed and power, far to surpass any other now afloat, and so far as we know any now in course of construction or pro posed to be constructed at home or abroad. An additional reason why the Secretary may be expected to act at once is that the bill provides for the' immcdate completion' of the battery. She could be completed, we understand, according to the estimate adopted by the Board of Examiners of last summer, in four mouths; iu time to furnish us a most important and powerful auxilary iu our present struggle. Parson Brownlow and Andy John son have been life-long political antagonists. The parson once prayed that the Lord in Ilis infinite mercy, would save even Andy Johnson. Each knows by this time how to appreciate the other. THE DESSERTS. From Peterson's Magazine f<"" May Tartlets. —Are always so called when made of a small size and uncovered with a crust; nor should preserved fruit of any kind be put under crust. The paste i made stiff enough to support the contents, being cut thin, put into pattypans, and crimped at the edges. The fruit is fre quently ornamented with small strips of paste laid over it crosswise, which are made thus: Mix a quarter-pound of flour, one ounce ot fresh butter, and a little cold wa ter ; rub it well between the board and your hand till it begins to string; cut it in to small pieces, roll it out, and draw it into* fine strings; then lay them, in any way you please, across your tartlets, and bake imme diately. The jam of raspberries, currants, or other fruits, as well as the marmalade of apricot, quince, and apple, may be made into tartlets, ami, when baked in a quick oven, may be tilled up with raw custard or whipped cream. Rice Padding. —Wash two'large spoon fuls of l ice, and simmer it, with half u pint of milk, till Chick}- then put a lump of but ter the size of an egg, and nearly half a ; pint of thick cream, and give it one boil. When cold, mix four yolks and two whites of eggs well beaten, sugar and nutmeg to taste, and add grated lemon and a little cinnamon. Bake three quarters of an hour in a slowisli oven, and, when the pudding is ready, strew over it a little powdered lump sugar and cinnamon powder. Cur rants may be added to the pudding. Or : Boil half a pint of rice in new milk until perfectly tender and not too dry ; then add six eggs beaten, a spoonful of ratatiu, su gar, and some grated fresh lemon ; mix well and bake in a mould one hour and u half. Turn it on a hot dish, and stick it thick with almonds slit in six. Serve with a rich custard round. It is equally good cold. Lemon Custard. —Strain three wine glassfuls of lemon juice through a scive ; beat nine eggs, yolks and whites ; strain them also, and add them to the lemon jotice, with a quarter-pound of powdered loaf su<- gar, a glass ot white wine, and half a wine glass of water, with a little grated lemon peel. Mix all together, and put the ingre dients into a saucepan on the fire, stirring it until it becomes thick and of a proper consistence. Or :■ —Boil the rind of two lemons grated, and the juice of one, in a pint of water; add the yolks of fourteen eggs beaten to a cream and sweetened; stir it one way till it thickens. When taken off the fire, add two spoonfuls of brandy. Excellent Light Puffs. —Mix two spoon fuls of flour, a little grated lemon peel, some nutmeg, half a spoonful of brandy, a little loaf sugar, and one egg; then fry ifc, but not brown; beat it in a mortar with five eggs, whites and yolks; put a quantity of lard in a fryingpan, and, when quite hot,, drop a dessertspoonful of batter at a time y turn as they brown. Serve them imme diately with sweet sauce. Parmesan Puffs. —Take a quarter-pound of cheese, the same quantity of bread crumbs, and two ounees of butter; pound these well in a mortar, beat up an egg, and mix it up into a paste, making the whole up into balls about the size of a golden pippin ; make a thin batter with flour, milk and one egg; dip tne balls into this and fry them a light brown. DRIED FRUIT. DRIEM Applee and Peaches, for sale at febl2 F. J. HOFFMAN'S,
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