%.120711 1 72 11:Zo TOWANDA: tUebriesban IllgroinD, November 15, 1818. [Froth the Fretteli'vet f Marie Ayeanl TIIE AGATE '11 . 11793, the Marquis de Fosscret was one of the happiest Marquises in France, which, a t t h at t i me, was not saying much. Having been in Paris but a few' days. unknown to all, feeling no regrets for a court with which he was not acquainted, a king and a queen whom he had never seen, dressed in a cannag,nole and a' red cap, he was, in the eyes of his hostess, plain citizen Fosscret as, his passport certified. We must not believe that the Marquis sympathised, in the slightest degree, with the opi nions of the times; he was simply a country gen tleman, indifferent to all political matters. Royal ty, the Republic. the Gironde, the Mountain, were things in which he took no interest, and which, in his estimation, were not of sufficient value to dis turb the current of his life. His property, Which ccas considerable, was in safety, out of the king dom; a friend of his in childhood, the only person whom he loved, the Chevalier de Bapaume,.had just succeeded in emigrating without accident, and had 'reached Sicily, with his young wife and a a:night& of three years of age, who was named Augustine, the diminutive of the christian name of godfather, M. Auguste tie FeFseret After, having seen Parts, the 'Marquis intended to visit Italy, and then join his friends, M. de Ba paume, at Messina. lie frequented the clubs, the theatres. *id, thanki to his costume, his common place 14ce and provincial manners, no one would thought of taking him for a marquis. It is a great error to believe that the revolution assailed every body without distinction ; it kit more poisons in repose than : is usually thought; or, to speak more clearly, all those, with a few 4 exceptions, indeed, Who really wished to remain s), and who were strangers 'to the event and to the ac ors, were spec tators to this grand, drama, without ben g mingled in it. The. Marquis did not trouble himself about the revolution, which on its side, left him equally undisturbCd. lie was present at thecivic fetes, and (*toyed Ills time in ettjo) ins the pleasures of the capital. . ' - zoite day, in a deserted street of the Marais, he eneounteued a young girl, accompaniel 4 by her mo ther. returning homeward, keeping close to the walls of the houses. and -proceeded at a hurried step. Both were clothed in mounting. The sin gular beauty °Gibe young maiden made a lovely impression upon him, and he was seized with a sudden passion lot-her—a pa.ss ion the more violent, Losoin was entirely bee from the agitations ut the times. To to!low these two remales, to discover their dwefling, and to learn their names from a lotion iou; neighbor, all this wits done with the prompt- tret-s natural to a young mart in lore. •• And are you sure that they lice there ?•' he said to the fruiterer's wife, as he pointed _to the house which the two dames had entered. " Yes, citizen," replied the woman. " a der fat, mother and daughter; they are culled Vergtm , -- before the Republic, De Yeti-pies; they have nous son, and they owe me I don't know how much in a. , signots; but they arc worthy people." These few words were eoeu for the Marquis; he jL aseendel to the apartmedit occupied by these dM..-s, gave his name and oViered his services.— In those storm} , times, equality of birth and simila, city of opinion were strong ties. The Marquis was kindly weleomed,.and he learned from Madame de Vergues that her husband, who had emigrated about two years before, haul left her in France, with out resources, and in complete ignorance of his fate. Au intimate friendship sprang up between these three persons, with whom we must include M. de Fossett's domestic, Guerard, who had serv ed bum Irom childhood. The Marquis changed his abode, took ich,ings in the house occupied by Madame de Vergnes, and his passion increasing day by day, he made an offer of his band and his toritAne. The marriage was performed in a cham ber aanFfortned into a chapel. Guerard and an old commander, a friend of Madame de Vergnes, were the witnesses, and a nonjuring • priest blessed their vows.. Here, - said-the spouse to the young girl ; as the • eft the altar, "the times in which we live suit me to offer you neither jewels nor rich robes, noth;ng, indeed, which is usually given to a youn7 bride : take this engraved agate, it is not of great value ; and was a gift to me from my mcther 1 cannot ask you to wear it, it is too heavy and mas sive-, but ever preserve it; conceal it in the casket in which you keep your most precious jewels, and so long as you love me let the two agates never be separated." Mademoi-elle de Vergnes was named A,gathe, and as he made this poor pun, the Marqu i s gave his wife a beautiful Antique agate, upon which was engraved in relief "a cupid with-his linger raised in arch mystery. Possesing, ituread of &;minishing M. de Fos seret's love, only augynented it ; he would have been perlecily happy, he said, but for his wile's coldness. A year passed in repose and' solitude. After the lapse of this time, two events occurred to trouble the tranquility of the youug pair. A let. ter from the Chevalier de Bapaumo brought 1231 • "Sly friend," wrote the emigrant to the Afar sincel hare inhabited a little villa, in the neighborhood of Messina, amid the calmness and the - happiness which I here enjoy, I have-a hund red times regretted that I was deprived of your so c.ety, and that you were in France, surrounded by numerous perils.. Now that dea h has robbed me of my wife, it is for my own sake that I grieve.-- Alt, why can I not clasp your hand and bear your voice, which alone would somewhat soothe my sorrow!. Your little god daughter, Augustine, who has just tiraelicd her I. Atli year, augments illy WI 4. t t,r 1 . . .........,4 • ay ~- • y.17 . ....Ct .1 WI HI I • ..--- , , -- • 0..,,,, . !: i). A , * 0 . ,-.:. ‘ , •57c.e , , rll'.. s . ' . 1.... , '1 ‘2.T . ) • ,•11... y ..,1,,, .p,. I' . ki . ., ....,„;' ..% pt., ‘. ‘ :, I: .; ..! 4.:.,.. . 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T 1 - 1 o •, , h ~= 4 . , -•. 3 . a . •ti ' ' - ' l4, ~.' , .., .• ;'. .- 5 _sin , z. . -•- . -* .... ; 4 •.4 tf '.., 1 ~; ' • '' - 5.. ! •,•---- • •.. ‘ !.IfJ r .....• ‘.p.- •, ~ ''''' '" ' "''' ''.' t `• " , s. t -••• ~ ~,• • •1. - 11 1 . 5• ..• ::: -') .. Er .' .. - xiety. Come, my friend, I need your aid laud con. solution to enable me to endure n:1 the bi(mlens of life." Madame do Vergnes was. seriously ill when the Marquis received this letter. .She did not kw sur. vire, and Paris then became as insupportable to the young wife as to the Marquis himself. They left the capital, traversed France, and soon reached Marseilles, where they embarked for SicOy. While they sailed over that fair and azure sea, where each rock recalls a remembrance of the past, the Mar. Tits ; as little interested. as' history is in politics, spoke of the friend whom he was about to meet one more. My dear Agathe," he said to his wife, "hith• erto we have always lived secluded ; now the friendship of M. de Bapanme will throw a charm over our existence. Ah, with what pleasure shall I clasp him in my arms!" Ile then called Gueranl, his demestic, wholiad accompanied them, and led• him to speak of his childhoeil; which had passed so pleasantly in the society of Charles de Bapaume; of the grace and loveliness of the lire Augustine, his god-daughter, and the happy life they were about td lead to their voluntary and shoit exile; for who ever leaves France without the hope of seeing it again ! They reached Messina without accident. Charles de Ikaoine was waiting for them ou the shore. lie was a handsoMe young man of twenty-eight years, with features pale and passive iiievpression, and a noble form, which appeared to advantage in the simple moniing apparel which he wore. lie clasp ed his friend in his arms, and after respectful salu tation to the Marchioness, he conducted the new corners to his villa, a Sicilian habitation ; spacious, adorned with marbles and mosaic, but entirely des titute of the commodious luiury which pmvails in a French mansion. A few scattered chairs, tables of carte wood, and half a dozen of those porous vases in which wale acquires the coldness of ice—these were the condorta which the hospitality of M.-de Bapaume offered to tie Marquis and his wife. This was, in deed, about all that M. de Fosseret %vauld have found elsewhere on the island. In warm countries the needs of life are few, and the indolenceengen- Sered by the climate renders the inhabitants ne glectful of the cc nveniencei and luxuries so eager ly sought after by those of colder regions The W ill Augustine was playing in the arms of a robust and dark-haired Sicilian woman As soon as she saw M. de Fosseret, she ran towards him with the gaiety of a sporld child, who, brought up in the country, carresses inditlereutly with every stranger who is willing to smile upon her. 'She was a most beautiful child; her dark eyes shone with all the ardor and brilliancy peculiar to the -Women of the squth, and her complexion possessed that swanlike whitene'ss which characterizes those of the north; her ;;raceful movements,,her round& pliant frame, gave promise of perfect beauty. The Marquis lav ished his carresses upon this child, and remarked to the father that, however unhappy the premature toss of Madame de Bapaume might have rendered such a daughter ought ( greatly to soothe his grief. The Choral er cast his eyes to the ground, and clasped Augustine to his arms. All the houses in Sicily have an inner Court, pro , tected against the sun ' s rays by high walls, in the midst of which standsa basin of water, from which leaps a fountain ; around this basin are ranged di ; vans, and it is here that the indolent Sicilians pass in soft repose, the most sultry hours of the day.— I It was to this retired spot that the Chevalier first conducted his guests; it was here that the two , friends related to each other their varied fortunes since the day of their separation. The Marquis was rich and the husband of a young wife; the Chevalier, a widower, lived upon some secret aid, which as a French emigrant, he received from the I ' Roman States; but M. de Fosstret would have g.iven all his wealth for a chill like Augustine.— lie hired a villa adjacent to that el his friend, and, atter the lapse of some montlet, he congratulated himself upon the resolution which he hail taken to Sicily, the climate of which suited his- wife, while the customs tastes of the country were pe culiarly adapted to his temperament. Violent and irascible; he was but ill fined for the polished manners of city-life; careful not to wrong another, he would unwillingly have resigned to the law the office of avenging his injuries ; a devoted friend, lie was an implacable enemy, and this feature of resemblance with the people around him attached him to the Sicilians. Still fend of his wife, but 'without resources in himself to wile away the time hetpassed long days id hun ing. the reaming he started with. the Chevalier,and returned in the evening, both, loaded with game. Not a day went by that he did not piss an hour or two with little Augustine; be disputed with Cata nea, the Sicilian servant, for the pleasure of sup plying her wants; he listened to the childs prattle, half French, half Italian; be dandled her upon his knees, and returned home only when Augustine had fallen asleep and could no longer reply to his caresses. Soon the Chevalier grew wearied of these long hunting excursions, and left the Marquis to enjoy them alone. One day, M. de Fosseret feund the 61111 so scorching and the game so rare, that he resolved to return home earlier than usual, and he retook the 'read to his villa: before enter ing his house he wished to see little Augustine, and he stole softly into the house of his friend-- The Chevalier was absent, and Calmest, the Sicil ian servant, was asleepnpon the maitre in the vest ibule. After some search he discovered Augus tine in the inner court of which we have spoken. The child was lying upon the grOund at the edge of the basin, and was. plunging her little arms into the water, apparently in order to find some object which she had lost. L Augustine," said the Marquis in alarm, "what are you doing there You will fall into the wa ter, imprudent child. tic ran towards her and raised her . : Augustine placed her wet finger upon her lips in token of silence. MITE MEE PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY, AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD ZOUNTY,I I A., BY E. O'MEARA gOODRICIL .•i.✓a. • asiniatakeroewoorangoimitkis: OM liit‘riw"a.' " Hush ! hush!" she said; "if Cutaneit should see me she -would tell papa s and that won!' ruin all." " Catanea is asleep-i-fear nothing. What has happened " Papa's ring has fallen into the water." " Your father's ring! what ring !" The child fretted ; wept, and, unable to explain what ring she meant, she be g ged her god-lather to seek for it himsel4 casting, the while, timid glint• ces towards the gale of the coati, (atrial of seeing Catanea make her appearance.- The Marquis placed his fowling piece in the angle of •two warts, took WI his light hunting coat, rolled •up his shir t sleeva, and plunged his arm in the water. The task, difficult foe,* Add, was easy for a man, for the basin was of but slight depth. But would it be possible for him to find the ring, concealed as it probably was amid t h e weeds and moss which carpeted the bottom of the basin! This was the Marquis's first thought, as ho passed his hand to and fro over the spot pointed out by the child. " Fear nothing!" he iuld to hie god-daughter, who slid wept, " I will arrange the matter with Catanea, and if necessary with your father. If we cannot find the ring we will have the basin drained and searched. Ah, I believe I have it! Tee, here it is. • • The Marquis withdrew his arm from the water, and reachrd the ring to the child, without even casting a glance upon it. "Oh, my god-father," cried Augustine, "this is it indeed." The Marquis then rove, Wiped his wet hand and era, mid put on his coat. " Let me see the ring." be said. " There; take it god-Father !" replied the child, placing the ring in his hand. The Marquis took the ring, and scarcely had he cast a glance upon it, when his hands trembled and his face was covered n ith a death-like paleness It was the en;mverl agate, which, fifteen or eighthen months before, he had given to his wife on the day of their nuptials; he turned and return , ed it in his hands, to see if, by chance, some acci dent had happened to the stone or the setting. which had induced his wife to give the ring to M. de Rapaume, in order to have it-repaired. It was entire and brilliant, as if it-had jest left the hands of the jeweller. " Is this your father's ring!" he said to Angus. tine. " Don't say a word! don't say a word, god-fath er ! I will tell you alt r Augustine took the Marquis by - the band, and led him out of the coot; they entered the vesti bule. Augustine satisfied herself that Catanea was still asleep upon the matting; she then ascended the stairs which led to her father's apartment and stopped upon one of the steps, Stay !" she said, "it was here I found the key." " What key r replied the Marquis, in great agi mtion. " Why, the key of the drawer where papalierps his rings." " Ah, ha!' said the Marquis. lie sullered Augustina to lead him to the sleep ing apartment of the Chevalier de Bapaame. It was a Sicilian chamber; a small bed covered with a netting, two unmatched chairs an old secretary inlaid with rosewood, with a border of bronze, composed all its furniture. Augustine advanced towards the secretary ; the key, which the Cheva lier de Bapanme had dropped that very morning upon the stairs, upon leaving the apartment, was still in the lock. The child had only lb pull the key towards her to open a drawer which she point ed out to the Marquis. She then saki-- " It is bete that papa keeps tha ring." The Marquis hurried towards • the drawer, and found it filled with letter, the hand-writing of which be at once recognized by the superscription. They were letters from the Marchioness. He seiz ed them and thrust them into his pocket; he kep the ring, locked. the drawer, the key of which he also retained. Then, by a method of reasoning which could only deceive a child of four and a half years of age, he made his god-daughter com prehend that, in order that her fattier might suspect nothing, it was necessary for him to take away the key, and that, above all, she mud not open her lips upon what had passed. The child promised obedience ; but as the ring was a plaything in which she took delight, she wished to have it re stored to her. The Marquis, to quiet her, gave her a ruby which he usually wore ; and now, as NU icus not •to be seen by Catanea as his god daugh ter had been a moment oefore, be took Augustine in his aims, softly descended the stairs, placed the child in the court where he had found her, and then seized his fowling ince, be left the house un observed, after hiving once more admonished the child to keep silence. Too deeply agitated to recant home, he entered a patch which led to a thicket, where he was in the inhabit of reposing, and where a few clumps of trees sheltered him from the rays of the sun.— When here, he cast himself upon - the parched ground, and wept bitterly. The loss of his mak, the . overturning of society, exiled far from his country, all these had been indifferent to him, and had seemed to him as natural accidents. But he was attached to two persons; to the one for love; to the other from friendship, and he held in his hands the proof of the perfidy of these two objects of his affection. ' He at last dried his taus, lea ne d his back against a•tree and read the Marchioness's letters. They contained the histoty of a woman who, in a moment of penury and wretchedness, espouses a man whom she' oes not love. Madame Agathe .de Posseret expatiated at length upon her reaborut for not loving her husband. She declared, that from the moment when she had seem this Chevalier new feeling awoke within her boom. It was a virgin heat that she offe'red to M. de flaipanme ; it was a drat love. T,.en the eoroplaigeil languid ly of the affection which the Chevalier had felt for ME his deceased wife; she displayed a , retmeitective jealousy, and ended ben letter by rows of eternal -tenderness; not a word indicated regret or remorse. Presently the unhappy Marquis lighted upon a small billet, the first probably, and one in which the hesitation of his wife seemed to prove a fixed and dersevering design.on the part of the Cheva lier to lead het from the path of duty. It was hf.. de Bapaume, then, who had prepared the Marcuionees' ruin ! On comparing dates the outJ raged spouse Discovered that he had for the fast three months been the dupe of these faithless be ings, and that the moment when he bad been he— frayed coincided esartly with the time when M. de Bapaume bad lost his relish for the chase. 4 4 k last hotter made strikicg impression upon the Mar quis. • "My friend," wrote Agatha to am Chevalier, " receive the ring' that I send you ; it is now the most valuable gift that I can offer you ; it has vir tues, which, if your attachment to me is sincere, will render it precious to you; it compels the one who has given it to love the person who possesses it; thus the-Marquis from whom I received this jewel loves me against my will. Heaven grant that henceforh, my friend, I may not love you against yours." The dishonor of the. Marquis was complete.— Deceived in all his affections, betrayed in all his hopes, he east his eyes around him, and remem• bered that he was in Sicily. He then folded the letters carefully, plared his engraved agate in his pocket, and continued the hunt so unhappily inter rupled. At evening he returned home, supped with his wife as usual, and at the accustomed hour retired to his apartment,. followed by his domestic Guerard. Gueranl," he said to him, " I am attached to three persons in the world) my wife, for whom I have a violent passinn,the Chevalierde Bapaume, this friend of my childhood, and your self; I do not speak of Augutgine, she is still but a child. Of their" three persons two eenairly have betrayed me, and perhaps the third is tharaccom. Guerard in great astonishment, protested his nnocence and his fidelity. The Marduis, ; who bad kernel] his resolution, placed his wife's letters be fore the eyes of his domestic, and having assured himself of the devotion of the only Wend that remained to him, they endeavored to discover the means which the culprits employed to 'see each other in secret. During the long hours when the Marquis was absent the Manehirmeits never left the house ; Chevalier de Bipaume did not visit her, or if he did, it was in no ostensible manner. At last Guerard recalled to mind that the Marthioness passed all her time in a , small apartment on the ground floor, which was situated in a corner of the building. The two repaired to this apartinent, and after a careful scrutiny discovered a sret door which led to a dark vmdt. The two vffia.s were adjacent; it was not difficult to divine the outlet of this mysterioo. passage. ' " And now,' said the Marquis, " I an? about to avengernyself. Can I count upon you, uerard!" " Always, my lord Marquis." " Reflect well, Guarani," added M. de Fosseret, drawing a poignard from beneath his coat. "1 shall show no mercy !" it Let as go sir." With these words both entered the' unknown passage. torisci.onso NeXT WILI:t.] • dregs have all gone towards the cork, they are dis chaged by what is called "divorginei The bot tle is lifted caretully from the rackoritb the neck down—the Elting is cut, the cork flies, MO with it dregs. napkin of the workman is in /letting all the sediment, escaped, and as hula as possible lot the wine, and it is satprising how accurately hey perTorms this operatiMi. Another cork is ready the instant the bottle is tamed up, and as soon as the 100 has been supplied by clear wine, the bottle is again placed in the rack. This processt is repeat; ed until no (Dore Bailment remains, and the trims is then fit-for market:" The manufacture of spurious ehampaigne is spee dy and easy enough. To make it, they take the poorest Chablis, woi4h bat five or six cents a bot tle, sweeten and refine it, and then pit it through an apparatus which charges it with catholic 'acid gas, and in fifteen minutes it is ready for market. This eta is bought in Boston, New YOrk and bany, where fashionable people and spendthrifts swallow it at the rate of two donate a bon/e. in England, a great deal is made from gooseberries, and the stalks of rhubarb. An immense quantity ii made from cider in this country, particularly at Nets : ark, New Jersey; and - nine oat of ten who drink it cannot tell it front the rend. As it takes just as mach Money to bay it, as it will make a a man more drunk and stupid, and give him a worse headache than the French, we don't know why it is not worth quite as much. Pmirrca's Eamon.— A rather green village editor up country, was very desirous of Orling the good graces of the new minister; and in describing his first entrance into the church, wrote , "he is a most venerable sample of antiquity." But to his aston ishment and the amazement of all the inhabitants, it came out the next Morning in types : t:_ffe is a moot venerable sample of iniquity." A FEw Tuning vo Avoni.—A bottle of wine at a public dinner. A short cot when you ate in a bur ry. Walking between two umbrellas on a pour ing wet day. "mut another glass befoni you go." Going into a church without a shilling. -Being the mediator of a quarrel between a, man and hitiwift BOwing to a lady from the, top of an omnibus.— And lastly, taking a new- hat-to an evening party. (Cr' A maiden lady of fort; in reply to an ironi cal question why she did not antler into- the holy ante matrimony, said . ; Why, by waiting, I may 'get one of the, best of husbands; and if I get a bad . one, I shall have reason to rejoice that khavn't long to live with him.' e ,x; ty„ .1 12113 13:=111111 MEM ME --.----.; -.--7--- CAMIE or &mgr.—A *Pinches', tanner," wri ting to the Germantown Telegraph, gives the fol lowing practical directions - for the ease of sheep: An opinion prevails in some sectionsthat sheep requires no water during winter, and that they ac tually do better without than with it. This, howev er, is ir great mistake, and one that** unfrequent fy lives rise to serious losses. When permitted., sheep, though they a,e capable from their peculiar 'nurture and habits of subsisting a longer time probably without ,water than any ether &Meiotic animal, will think . from four to eight times a 'day, and with evident advantage, particularly during winter, when they am necessarily restricted to dry and indigestible food, which naturally engenders thirst, and requires much drink to resider the econ omy of digestion and assimilation sufficiently rapid and perfect to insure a continuance of thrift and health. When practicable, there should always be a watering through in shed or yard, to which the animals can at all times have free access, without mingling with cattle or larger stock, as they are li able to be injured by the latter, especially when with young. When there is a pump in the yard, as there always should be—the trouble attending such arrangement, is comparatively slight, even where the slier? Lad cattle yards are, as they -ought to be distinct From twenty-tire to thirty sheep are as many as can be well kept in one enclosure . When the number exceeds this, unless special care be bai to secure the most perfect ventilation, the animals are liable to contract diseases, and never do so well u when confined in smaller flocks. On king sheep from the pastures, in aretunm, thesud den change from green to dry food often opera detrimentally, which is sufficiently evinced by the loss of appetite and consequent ernariation evinc ed, and which is often attributed, erroneously, to disease. As soon as•they are taken fmm the , tan gee, a couple of messes of potatoes should be given them daily fora week or so, gradually lessening the quantity as they become accustomed to, and acquire a relish for other food. By adopting this plan, and allowing, them a liberal supply of salt and water, their,vi,gor will remain nnimpared, and the change tendered unavoidable by circumstances, will be productive of no unpleasant results." GA - scs.—Good gates are a, great convenience They save no small amount of trouble, and when properly constructed, wilt endure for years. Every passage way, path; lane and rood, should be se cured by a good substantial gate, hung on durable poets, and attached thereto by firm iron hinges, ca pable of sustaining the weight without asityger of breaking, even when roughly used. True, it costs more to construct and hang armed gate properly, than it does to construct a pair of bars, but when it is once accomplished, you have a defence which !rill not require replacing or reparing for years, and which will subject yco to but little trouble or loss of time in opening and abutting--an item of no small' consequence when ono is to pass some doz en or twenty times a day. SILT FOR Blunt Cows. —When cows in milk are kept on green, succulent boa, they require a regular and liberal supply of salt. So, also, when cattlej are first turnedlo pasture in the spring, they require salting more frequently than in the latter part of the season when the berbage is less succu• lent and fresh. It is often the cane th t animals, taken from dry food, and supplied exclusively with iveen fermentable herbage. are greatly debilitated I I et anana,” Salt, in due quantity, is a certain pre rentitive of this malady. On first . going to grass, cows should be continued for a week of so, and then not Mopped suddenly, but gradually. GOOD Annum—Never keep a poor or malform ed animal of any kind. It is better to kill or give away such, han incur the expense of keeping them, wet *le risk of having their peculiar deform ities communicated to the rest of your stock. The judicious Caney, has truly remarked that, "of all animals of whatever kind, those with the smaller and clearest bones are generally the best propor tioned, and covered with the beat and finest grain ed meat; they ate the hardiest, healthiest, and best seders, able to bear the molt fatigue, when hying, find worth the most per pound when dead." Goon Toois.—ln providing yourself with far ming implements, always endeavor to obtain the best. It is bad policy to select a poor or imper fect instrument, simply because you can get it. cheap. Your ten cent pen knives and shilling ra zors are the dearest in the end, every one will ad: mit, and the same remark applies, with equal cor reetnessoo cheap scythes, axes, shovels, spades, plows, hoes, izc. Ike. • - Rura Bps FOR HORIIRL+The horse, when fed on these valuable roots, furnishes his own root cut ter.votes AU that is n o enable him to per form upon them t o mastication, de glutition and digest' ,ts to place them in the man ger before him. The largest and finest roots soon disappear, especially after the animal has had slit tle experience in " irori4sig up." Cosine= rue Bestow; Ircsaor Arsz.c Tiers. =Tr, —R. Manning, of Salem''l the Woe some from a Baldwin apple tree in the =Spring of its bea ri ng year changed their s ul year to the fol l Owing season. The unfmitful seasons bare be come bearing years, and rice Tenn. Trim Pam Tasne.—The Patent Office Raped for 1847, states that the quantity of apples shipped from Oneida county, N. Y., (chiefly from four RoWnships,) wastes thousand in 1645, seven or eight thousand in 1846; and eighteen thousand in 1867. • The most productive orchard, known as the Goodsell orchard ; containing abed six acres, yield ed in 1845 mom than one thou end barrels, •which sold for over a thousand dolts. J t P.:l 0; • : " 1 , Tee sur.ao looking at our age, I amstruck brume !lately wklb one .41111• mending character"- ie ; end Oat is, die ferefet*l of all is movOments to expansion, to diffusion, no univ'entdity. •ITo t i ask yeas urtettflom Thin ' tenderer is directly . sto the spirit of *Mu. niceness, restriction, narrowness monopoly, semis+ has pfevailed in • ssgen. Mum* action is now liver, • mom one %nods, adnam%ms, help, are more • .hr aff. respriviler e ,ed petted individual is heroin ng less, and the human . race are becoming more. The multitude rising from the dust- Once we heard of the kw,- new of . the many ; once a part now of the rights fooling as never before, throegb relopments of ranks and classes, ' we whir/ is below theta; ami • that every being who panaki Jams to ealtivise, selerna don isolienithre rights to as sert, a vast Tbe irand' idea .of borate swan as 'inrin, is -spreaJing tot that the worth of the hum; =tootles it should be ; but thr through the dark ness. A has seised on the public mini ,feet portions of so- ciety are el better condi tion, for w signed. The grand doctrine, should have the means oft to knowledge and virtue, of 'ropiness, of exer cising the _ of a man ; this is slowly taking the highest social truth. The world sr ail and eat km a few ; that society i if;that no hordne being shall perish, its own fault; that the great end of ; to spread a shield over the rights of Impositions ate growing into axioms, r of them is coming fotth in all the der efunesine. -Tile Loss BORN —We have read of a young i newly buried be fin. 4 born. Her , visit her, and, ee find ing her sweet he asked bow she had attained sod . She replied, " I used to think of m many. whether sleeping.or waking—to • ! more beautiful than oth er children. _ ..ssappointed if visitors omitted to praise his eyes; or his cods, or the robes-that 'I wrought for him' wiih my needle. At first I be lieved it the natural current of a mother's love.— Then 1 teamed it *aR pride, and sought to bumble myself before 'Mtn who reststeth the proud. One , 4 rii night in dreams thoeght an angel stood beside me, and said, 4 S, ere is the little bud lbou nur sest in thy bosom 1 ' I am sent to take him away ! Where is thy littl harp ? Give it to are! It is like those which sou d the praise of God in heaven." I awoke ie teats my beautiful boy drooped like a bud which the w rm pierces; his last wailing was like the sad • from shattered barpstrings; all my 'world seem gone; still in my agony I listen ed, for there was a voice in my soul, likethe voice of the angel wb bad warned me, saying, "God loveth a cheerful giver." I laid my mouth in the dust and said, let Thy will be mine ; and as I arose, though the tear yon my cheek, there was a smile also. Since this nice. has been heard amid the de fies "Of every d y—methinks it says continually, " the cheerful gi er." II C mesices 000 bottles of C annual guzzling 000 of bottles. quisite to prod case which a through before lows: At the vial tasked, before cask till March bottles are pil layent, so that can be taken years, each neck downwa • the neck, Th' bottle three or down with a ' two or three VIAZEL ETES--Major Noah says that a hazel eye inspires at first; a Platonic sentiment, which gradn ally but surely expands, and emerges into love as securely foimaed as the rock of Gibraltar. A wo men with a babel eye never elopes from her hus band, never chats scandal, never sacrifices her bas. band's comfort to her own; never finds fault, never talks too much or too little, away" ia.an• entertain ing, intellectml, agreeable and lovely creature.— We never knew but one uninteresting and unaniai ible women with a hazel eye, and she bad a nose which looked, as the Yankee says, like the "!ittle ecd of,nothin,g whittled down to a point." A Patoor FATHES.-....Th inlaw; and a rietl the son, The widow as therefore mother to her husband's father, and ... , . neatly grandmother to her own husband. '. .ey had a son, to whom sbe was ,1,1 great-grandrn her : now, as the eon of a grial4lo- de, this boy one or the other. He washisoin grandtatherl is was thepasewith ahoy alsehool at Notwhich.4—ifoolsAidgatine. . Anrict TO n Lungs.—Always dress as neatly and as plaint, aa,poutible—let Flora be your jew. eller ' and a rose God the onlY gem about you,-- Thiscoveri yourself with gewgaws, like far eat. tle, only in - that you are intended, like them, for the mark " He is _ chief power nice eases than it supp 2MMM MEI •-• ; . - , . ~: X; ;. ~~ n ~ E,St ~~4:~ t VaIWO* $lO6, I France pieduaes about 50,000,- ampaigne wine every year... The f the world amounts to 300,000,- deal of skill and labor and re = pere wile. A part of the pro ( favorite Cbampaigne wine goes is offered in the market, ides • in September, the wine is at once fermentation. It remains; in the r April, when it is bottled. The in stacks, with laths between the cee which burst, some 12 per cent., At the end of two or three. is placed in a rack, with the ( 7 , and the dregs gradually Sink into [ process is hastened by lining the four times a day, and placing it I -re When it has received some ' unarmd of these shocks, and the T ♦ MIN c* SC HIS OWX awn e was a widow and her daughter. an and his son. The widow mar- d the daughter the old gentleman. at simpleton wdo imsgins that the of wealth is,to supply wants. In abet - • tof a handred ft mates more wants 1.