SJcuotcb to politics, jfttcrctfurc, Agriculture, Science, iltoraliti), ani cncral intelligence. VOL 15. STROUDSBURG, MONROE COUNTY, PA. OCTOBER 18, 1855. NO. 47. Published by Theodore Schoch. TEHMS-Tivo dollars tloll.irs and u quarter, half yearly and if not paid be fore the end of the year.Two dollars and a half. No papers discontinued until all arrearages arc paid, njcccpt at the option of the Editor. "lET" Advertisements not exceeding one square (ten s ncr annum in advance Two Xwcnty-fivc cents for every subsequent insertion. Tlie.OttUO mountain road, and loOKCQ down charge for one and three insertions the same. A liber-1 ;nto T,llf,w nf Wvnmino- lionflifli no ,a! discount made to yearly adveitisers. imo 1110 aiioy 01 yoming DCneatu Us. Hies) will be inserted three weeks tor one dollar, and 1117 All letters addressed to the Editor must be post paid. - JOB PRINTING. llaring a general assortment of large, elegant, plain and ornamental Type, we are prepared to execute every description of Cards, Circulars, Bill Heads, Notes, Blank Keceipts Justinus, Legal and other Blanks, Pamphlets, &c. printed with neatness and despatch, ou reasonable orms, AT THE OFFICE OF . THE .TEFFERSOtflAN. Love Song. DY ANSON G. CHESTER. She who sleeps upon my heart Was the first to win it : Sle who dreams upon my breast Ever reigns within it ; She who kisses oft my lips Wakes my warmest blessing; She who rests within mine arms Feels their closest pressing. Other hours than these shall come, Hours that may be weary; Olher days shall greet us yet, Days that may be dreary ; Still that heart shall be thy home, Still that breast thy pillow ; Still those lips meet thine, as oft Billow mecteth billow. Sleep, then, on my happy heart, Since thy love hath won it ; Dream, then, on my loyal breast None but thou hast done it; And when age our bloom shall change, Willi its wintry weather, May we, in the self-same grave, . Sleep and dream together! The Departed. Ah, where are those who love us? Methings they shoulJ be here; Alas! they are above us, Within yon sky so clear. The hearts I once so cherished, Are withered faded gone ; Alas! how soon they perished. And left us here alone. Land Warrants are in fair demand at New York and selling at 81,08 per acre of 120 acres, and at SI ,11 of 80 and 160 acres. Good advice to farmers is given by a writer who says 'Plough deeg, plant wide, and keep hoe handles polished.' He that would live long must sometimes change his course of life. Command your Fcrvant, and do ityour eelff and you will have less trouble. Why is a chicken's neck like the Em peror of France? Ans. Because it is a bonypart. If you bite me, I'll bite you, said the popper-pod to the boy. Shocking Story. The following account of the murder of a slave by her mistress, which we copy from the New York Times, seems too monstrous for belief: Franklin, Tenn., Thursday, Sept. 20. 1 655. A most sickening tragedy occur red three miles from this place on Mon- dav and Tuesday last, which throws the fictious performances in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' entirely in the shade. A notori-;bird, ous woman named Ellen Borden, had her jealousy aroused on Sunday last by the so amiable as to win, irresistibly, the love conduct of her husband towards a negro ! of all who met her, Kate Beverly was woman employed in the house, began on scarcely seventeen jjefore she had a host Monday to whip and torture the woman,; of admirers, and might have won any and pcrscrvered in her cruely until some,' youth in the valley. Why was it that she time the next day, when the negro died, jprefercd me over all the rest, I cannot say. When the fact of her death became known Perhaps it was the consciousness of some a Coroner's inquest was held, and a war-J mysterious sympathy linking us together; rant issued for the arrest of the mur- or, perhaps it was that wo both came deress. The preliminary trial is now go- from the same town in Connecticut, and ing on, and from testimony elicited upon ( had been schoolmates in childhood. So it, there seems to be no doubt but the ne- it was, however; and it soon began to be gro was made to emfBrc .the most awful known throughout the valley that before torments for nearly two days before she J another season should elapse, Kato Bev- was killed outright. She was first tied and whipped, then boiling water was poured over the abdo men and legs, until the skin was all scald cd off and tho fatty tissue cooked, leaving' with agony. Suffice it to say, that dream the muscles bare; she was then taken into ing of bliss such as mortal never before a smoke house and locked up, and prob-' experienced, the war of the revolution jably on the next day the remaining in-1 broke out; and after a had struggle be jurics were inflicted which put an end to ' tween my passion and my duty, the lat her misery. These last injuries were the ter conquered, and I joined the army. hanging of the negro by a rope attached ' Kate did not attempt to dissuade me from to a joist in the smoko house, and a se- the act; she rather loved me the more for vcrc blow on the temple with some point-'it. Though her woman nature caused cd instrument, which pierced and frac- her to shed tears at my departure, her ured the skull. On a post mortem ex- reason told her that I was right, and she aminatiop the neck was found to be brok- bid me God speed, en, the back port of the head badly! "Heaven bless you, Harry," 6be said, bruised and two other gashes with the "and bring this unnatural war to a con same sharp instrument on the head. Tho elusion. I cannot bid you stay, but I pray back was also found to bo considerably that the necessity for your absence may gcaldod, though not so badly as tho front Edd.n cease." part of tho body. ) Time rolled by the American cause ' The woman, Borden, made no attempt was still doubtful, and tho war bid fair to escape, and exhibits perfect iindiffer- to be protracted into years. I had risen ence about the affair. The excitement to be captain in the regiment, when in town is very great. .KATE BEVERLY. A Story of Wyoming Valley. BY PERCY II SMITH. "Do you sco that landscape?'" said tho old man to me. as we paused on the edge "Well, that spot, calm and beautiful as it is, was once the scene of massacre. God help me! the agonies of that day al- j most wring my heart to think of them, even after the lapse of fifty years." "I have heard it was a fearful time, and you have often promised to tell me the tale of your own connection with it. Yet if the subject be so painful to you, I dare scarcely make the request." "No, boy," said the old man sadly, "I will tell it, for tho promise is of loner standing, and I feel to-day as if I could relate that tragedy with less emotion than usual. Sit down on this rock and give me a moment to rest. I will then com mence my story." While the old man wiped the perspira tion from his brow, and sat fanning him self with his broad-rimmed hat, I took tho plaoo pointed out by him near his side, and spent the moments that elapsed before he began his narration, m gazing at the landscape before me. Sitting on a huge boulder, at the edgo of the mountain, just where tho hill be gan to slope down in the valley, we com manded a view of one of the most unri valled landscapes in the world. To our i left rose up the mountain, both rugged and barren, like the back of some vast monster reared against the sky; but on the right nothing interposed to destroy the view; whose loveliness so far exceed ed even my expectations, that for some minutes I gazed on the sceno in mute ad miration. Beneath mo stretched the val ley, diversified with gently sloping eleva tions, and sprinkled with fields of waving golden grain; while here and there a patch of woodland, with its dark green hue, lay slumbering on the landscape the surface of the forest ever and anon varying to a lighter tint as the wind swept over the treje tops. Right through tho centre of the valley meandered the river, now rol ling betwixt bluff banks, and now steal ing gently among the rich meadow lands in the distance, until at length it turned to the left, and skirting the foot of the far off hills, was lost behind the profile of the mountain before us. In the centre of the vale was the village, with its white houses and airy church steeple Emiling over the sceno. Far away on the horizon Etretoh ed a line of hills, their dark blue summits half hid by clouds, which wrapped them in a veil of gauze. No sound came np from the valley. Occasionally the twitter of a bird would be heard from the surround ing hills, while the low tinkle of a tiny waterfall on our left kept menotonously sounding in our ears. The morning rays of a summer's sun poured down upon the landscape, and every thing around was bright and gay and beautiful. I was still lost in admiration of the scene, when the old man signified his readiness to com mence his story: "It is now fifty years ago since I came to this valley, a young frontier man, with a hardy constitution, a love of adventure, and the reputation of being the beet shot on the border: tho nlace at that t ma set- flftfl nrinmnnllv hr fnmiliflq frnm flnnnnn. i ticut, and even then bore traces of its present luxuriant cultivation. Many of the families were in good circumstances, others had seen better days, and altogeth er,the society was more refined than was usual on the frontier. Among all the fam Hies, however, in the valley, none pleased mo. ro much n tW. nf Mr TWorlr- ta of his fire-side circle, his second dau"-h-ter, Kate was in my eyes the gem. How shall I describe her beautv : Lovely without beins beautiful, with asvlnh-like form, a laugh as joyous as tho carol of a a step lighter than that of a vouno- .fawn in sportive play, and a disposition erly would become my wife. Oh ! how happy we were in those days too happy, indeed, to last. I will not dwell upon them, for they fill my soul ;1 received information that tho tones and Indians intended making a descent on the valley of Wyoming. I knew the unpro- tccted situation of my adopted district, and I trembled for tho lives of those I hold most dear. At first I discredited the rumor. Chance, however, threwin ray way an opportunity of ascertaining the reality of the descent, and I became con vinced that not a moment was to bo lost, if I would save tho lives of those I loved at home. My determination was at once taken. I solicited leave of absence; it was refused: and I resignod my commission, and set off for Wyoming. I shall never forget my emotions when I drew near that ill-fated place. It was on tho very day of the massacre; and the first intimation I had of tho calamity was tho maugled body of one of the inhabi tants, whom I had known, floating down the stream. A cold shiver ran through every vein? as I gazed on the terrible sight, and a thousand fears agitated my bosom; but my worst surmises fell short of the truth. When Jhours after I met some of the fugitives, and they rehearsed . The other two finding their companions to me the talc of horror, I stood for a dead, and dispairing of being ablo to car moment thunderstruck, refusing to be- rv off their prisoner, suddenly rushed on lieve that beings m numan lorms could such deeds; but it wa8 coolly porpetrat all too true. Almost my first inquiry was for Kato. No one knew, alas! what had becomo of her. One of those who had escaped the fight, told me" that her father had been killed in the conflict, and that deprived, of a protector, she had probably fallen victim to the infuriated savages, while the other inhabitants were severally en gaged in protecting themselves. How I cursed them for this selfishness; and yet, how could I expect aught else of human nature than that each one should protect those dearest to them even to the deser tion of others But my mind was soon made up. I resolved, come what might, to ascertain clearly the fate of Kate; so that if dead I might avenge her, and if living I might rescue her. Bidding farewell to my fly ing group, I shouldered my rifle and struck boldly into the forest, trusting in the guidance of that God who never de serts us in our extremities. I will not tire you with a protracted narrative; I will only say that after nu merous enquiries from the fugitives I met, I learned that Kate had been seen last in the hands of a party of savages. This was sufficient for a clue; I once more be gan to hope. I waited until nightfall, when 1 sought the spot which had been described to me as the one where Kate had been last seen; and never shall I for get my feelings of almost rapturous pleas ure, when I found in the neighboring forest a part of her dress sticking to a bush, by which it had doubtless been torn in passing. I now was satisfied that Kate had been carried off captive. Fortunate ly, I had met in the group of fugitives a hunter, who had been under some obliga tions to her family, and he was easily persuaded to join me in my search. To gether we now began a search for the sav ages. He was an adept in forest warfare; could follow a trail as a hound in the 1 chase: knew the course which would be I tv -vof Ulrolw f r Tin nlinsnn V t? n fluinrr nnrf.tr !of Indians; and withal wasone of tho Keenest snow wuo uau carneu the border. a"" oiin on "It's my opinion," said he, "that these varments did not belong to the regular body of Indians who followed Butler, though even they were bad enough. I think, however, he would not suffer a deed ', like this. These villains seem to have acted on tIieir own behalf; and if so, they will flv to the back country as soon as possible. You may depend upon it we shall overtake them if we pursue that way." I felt the truth of these remarks, and assented to them at once. In less than a quarter of an hour after first discover- ins the trail, we were threading the for- est in pursuit of the savages. Let me hasten to the close. Hour af ter hour, all through tho live long day, we pursued tho flying Indians; crossing swamps, clambering over rocks, fording streams, and picking our way through the labyrinthine woods, until toward night we reaohed the edge of an open space or, as it were, a meadow, shut in by gently sloping hills. "Hist," said my companion, "we are upon them. Do you not see that thin thread of smoke curling upward over the top of yonder aged hemlock?" "Aye it must be them; come let us on." "Softly, or we loose all. We know not certainly that this is the party we seek; let us reconoitre." C, 1 1 . 1.1 M 1 1 1 1 i oiowiy ana steaituuy, tremming least ovAn n iKirrslinnld nrnnklfi nndnr nnr W, we crept up towards the edge of tho mead- j " P 1 O ' ow, ana peeping cautiously turougn tne underwood, beheld the object of our search, and six tall swarthy savages, sitting smok ing around the remains of a fire. At a little distance, with her hands bound and her eves upraised to Heaven, knelt mv 1 1 . f 1.1 own Kate. Oh! how my heart leaped at,?0' Jf. fel!,ow wh o "ported as hav the sight. I raised my rifle convul6ive. iug fallen down drunk and making ports' ly, and was about to fire, when my com panion caught my hand, and said: "Softly, or you will spoil all. Let us get the varments in range, and then we shall fire with some effect. Hist!" This last exclamation was occasioned by the sudden rising of one of tho sava ges. He gazed a moment cautiously a round, and then advanced towards the thicket where we lay concealed. I drew-! , ., 1 i 1 , 1 i 1 1 1 . jmy Drcatn in ana ircrupiea at tne oca:- jiug of my own heart. The savage still approached. My companion laid his hand on my arm, and pointed from in v rifle to one of the Indians. I understood him. At this juncturo the advancing savage, warned of our presence by the crackling of an unlucky twig beneath my compan ion's foot, sprang back with a loud yell, towards the fire. "Now," said my companion. Quick as lightning I raised my piece and fired. Mv companion did the same. The retrating savage and one of his com panions fell dead on tho ground. Each of us then sprang to a tree, loading as we ran. It was well that we did it, for in an instant the enemy was upon us. Shall I describe that dreadful fight? My emo tion forbids it. A few minutes decided it. Fighting from tree to tree; dodging load ing, and endeavoring to get sight of a foe, we kept up tho conflict for nearly five minutes, at the end of which time I found myself wounded, while four out of tho six savages lay prostrate on the ground. her. and before wo could interpose, had seized their hapless victim. I had only been prevented hitherto from rescuing Kate, by the knowledge that an attempt of this kind while tho savages were still numerically superior to us, would end in tho certain ruin of us both; but now worlds could not have restrained me; and club abing my rifle,for the piece was unloaded, ' "T rl n a 1 rtrl r n I Cr m tm . nnrmy I nli ti tin r I r my companion: (I n nn in d-nAa nnmn nrtPJ "Take oare of the taller varmint," he thundered. The warning was too late. In the tu mult of my feelings I had not observed that tho savage furthest from me had his piece loaded, and before I could avail my self of my companion's cooler observation, I received the ball in my right arm, and my rifle fell and my arm dropped power less by my side. Had I not sprang in voluntarily aside, at my companion's cry, I should have been shot through the head. "On, on!" I groaned in agony, as I seized my tomahawk in my almost use less left hand. "Stoop;" said my companion, "stoop lower," and as I did so, his rifle cracked on the still air, and the Indian fell dead. All this had hardly occupied an instant, i I was now within a few feet of the one I loved, who was struggling in the grasp ; of the other Indian. He had already en-! twined bis hands in her hair; his toma- hawk was already gleaming in the setting j sun. Never shall I forget the looke of de- ' moniac fury with which tho wretch glar-1 ed on his victim. A second only was left for hope. My companion was far behind with his rifle unloaded. I made a des-' perate spring forward, and hurled my tomahawk at the savage's head. God of my fathers! the weapon whizzed harm- I lessly by the wretch, and buried itself quivering in the trunk of a neighboring tree. I groaned aloud in agony; there 1 was a yell of triumph in the air a sudden ! flashing in the sun like a glancing knife, and but I cannot go on. She who I loved as my own life; she who was the purest and loveliest of her sexjshe with whom I had promised myself a long life of happiness; ah! must I say it she lay a mangled corpse at my feet! But her murderer aye, he was cloven to the breast by a blow from his own tom ahawk which I had wrenched from him, with the strength of a dozen men." The old man ceased; big tears rolled down his furrowed face, and his frame shook with emotion. I saw tho remem brance of the past was too much for him, and I sat down by his side in silence. I subsequently heard his sad talo from others, and then learned the manner in which Kate had been carried off. The old man's companion was right. She had been made a prisoner by a predatory band of Indians, who had followed But ler, and deserted him immediately after the massacre. Beautiful as is tho valley of Wyoming, I never have seen it from that day to this, without thinking of tho sad fate of Kate Beverly. The Dixon (111.) Telegraph mentions the formation in that placo of a comp any to manufactor brick by a new pro cess, which dispenses with burning and and is in every respect cheaper than tho old mode. Tho bricks are made en tirely of lime and sand mixed with wa ter, and nreased with n Tinwnrfnl mn- l . V K r Ministers Arrested CAnnU I'Wnr" f rreSlCCl. WllCagO IS a great nlrtnn 'I irn ivl 1 nictofO rf Hi n Hncnnl msi-a ,! ; , "" nr mil r. An thorn locf manlr rrn trv Wpiinlf. lenness, and tho other for stealing a horse and buggy. A distinguished teacher defines 'genius' to be 'the power of makin" efforts,' If to raise himself by feeling upwards for the ground, must be 'an awful genius.' Prosy Coleridge, during one of his in terminable table talks, said to Lamb. 'Charley, did you ever hear me preach?' 'I never beard you do anything else,', was tho prompt and witty reply of Lamb, which has remained a favorite by-word V y ?o the presca; Another Baby. Tho New York Sunday Timc3 says: They have got a now "baby elephant" up town, the product wc believe, of one of the elephants belonging to Barnum's trav cling menagerie. Being too unwell to go upon her usual summer tour, she was left at home, wo believe, to recuperate for a season. The result is this addition to the elephantine domestic circle. Both Buffon and Goldsmith tell us as a scien tific fact, that elephants never gestate in captivity. However prolifio in their nat ural state, they never give birth in the domestic condition, those authorities as sure us, to other captives and such us ed to be the case. But a few years ago, one of tho female elephants in the Zoolog ical Garden, at Regent's Park, London, set the example. An elephant in the Jar- din des Plantcs, at Paris, followed in twelve months after. A year after an el ephant in this city gave us an imitation, and now, as if our country must still keep ahead of all competition, behold wc have another. These baby elephants arc very interest ing objects. They are perfectly formed though and differ from their parent only in size but that difference is so amazing that it becomes ridiculous; and when you see the baby walking to and fro under itd mother, you cannot resist the impulse to laugh at the oddity of the comparson. And then the bulky mother's care of her baby is so human-like and affectionate. Give tho baby an apple for instance. The mother elephant first takes it in her trunk, examines it closely, and then re turns it to her infant to eat, having ap parently satisfied herself of its innocuous ness. And so with every thing else. The watchful care, the jealous fondness, tho assiduous and untiring attention of the parent-monster, is eminently worthy of imitation by many beings who make pro fession of a much greater share of intel ligence. Dan Rice's Gratitude. An interesting incident is related of Dan Rice, the celebrated circus perform er, in a late number of the Reading Ga zetce. When Dan left Reading with 'the pig,' fourteen years ago, he went towards Kutztown. Here he was completely stuck the pig didn't draw, and Dan found himself out of cash, with scarcely a coat to his back, and altogether in one of those awkward quandaries from which extrica tion is hopeless, short of a miracle. But, in the depth of his distress, Dan found a Good Samaritan in our worthy friend, Judge Heidenrcich, who lifted him out of the mud, put him in a suit of new broad oloth, and lent him a horso and wagon to take his pork to another market 'in short,' as Mr. Micawbcr would say. to Allentown. Here Dan's evil genius a gain beset him the pig proved too little pork for the AHentowners' shillings, and Dan fell deeper into the mire of debt and destitution than before. To add to his troubles, a crisis in his wifo's health was approaching, when to travel. any longer with Dan, was periling the travail she must shortly undergo on her own account. In this sad dilemma, Dan had no other resource but to sell the horse and wagon Judge Hcidenreich bad loaned him, and with the proceeds take his wife home to Pittsburg, buy a cradle, and prepare for tho stern realities of married life. He made a notch, however, in the corner of his brain, of his indebtedness to the Judge, which he determined no statute of lirain tation should ever obliterate. Time pass ed on Dan dissolved partnership with the pig, took a step higher, aud reached the stage of one of the Philadelphia the atres. Here tho Judge saw and recogniz ed him one night discovered hislodgings next morning, and gave him a friendly call. Den, although in improved circum stances, was still poor, and wore a thread bare coat; but the Judge, in the hardness of his heart, arrested him, and took him before not the Mayor, but a Clothier, and ordered a suit to be brought. But Dan would not stand that proceeding he suffered a non-suit, and left tho Judge to an empty judgment. From that time to this, they never met, until last Tuesday, when Dan and his Company came to Reading to perform, and the Judge came down to attend Court. Dan's first duty was to hunt up his old friend, and invited him to take a short drive about town, to which he consented, and a horse and-ve-hiclo were soon at the door. Dan's c quipage, like that of his profession gen erally, seemed a pretty stylish turn-out. It consisted of a bran new carriage of el egant make, a cream colored Arabian pony, and a spick and span new 8et of glistening harness worth, when you come to estimate such things by dollars, some 400 or 8500. Tho drive was taken and enjoyed, and time flew swiftly by, as the two friends talked and laughed over tho half-forgotten events of old times. Dan drove the Judge back to his lodgings, stepped out upou the pavement, and, be fore the Judge had time to rise from bin sea,t, handed him the reins and whip, with a graceful bow, and said : 'These are yours, Judge tho old horse and wagrm restored, with interest take them, with Dan Rice's warmest gratitude!' The Judge was stricken dumb with amaze ment for a few moments, but soon recov ered his sclf-posscsMou and began to re monstrate. But Dan was inexorable he closed his lips firmly, shook his head, waved a polite adieu to his old friend in the carriage, walked off to the hotel, and left the Judge to drive the handsome c- quipagc now really bis own, to the stable. An honest man, and a man of honor, is Dan Rico, the Circus Clown ! The Red Sea. This large body of water, which sepa rates the shores of Asia from thoso of Af rica, is about fourteen hundred miles in length and nearly two hundred in average breadth. It derives its name from quan tities of slimy, red, coloring matter,which at certain seasons of the year colors its waters and is washed up along its beach es, and which has been pronounced "by Dr. Ehrenberg to be composed of an infi nite number of very delicate vegetables. This discoloration of the waters is by no means peculiar to. the Red Sea. Tho warm waters of the Pacific Ocean swarm with nascent organism, sometimes animal and sometimes vegetable, which color its surface crimson, brown, black, or white, according to their own hues. These patch es of colored water often extend, especial ly in the Indian Ocean, as far as the eyo can reach. Along the coast of China yel lowish spots are not uncommon, and tho Yellow Sea derives its from the frequen cy of tho yellowish patches in that local ity. Tho average depth of the Red Sea is about fivo hundred feet. Sudden changes of wind and violent gales render its navigation difficult. Nevertheless in past years, before tho discovery of tho passage around the Cape of Good Hope, it was the principal route of traffic be tween Europe and the East, and even now it is important as a part of the direct route between Europe and India. Lieut. Maury, in an account of the cur rents of the ocean, says that there is a perpetual current rushing from the Indian Ocean into the Red Sea. This current is peculiar, inasmuch as while the bottom of it is probably a water level, the surface is an inclined plane, running doicn hill. The causes which render the surface of the sea lower as it becomes more distant from the straits are these: The sea is in a rainless and riverless district; its shores are burning sands ; the evaporation is ceaseless, and none of tho vapors which the scorching winds that blow over it car ry away arc returned to it in other forms. When we consider how dry and hot the winds are which blow upon the sea, we may suppose the daily evaporation to be immense, probably not less than an inch. Calling it, however, half an inch only, if we suppose tho velocity of the current to average twenty miles a day, it would take the water fifty days to arrive at a distance of one thousand miles from the mouth, and by that time it would have lost by e vaporation fifty half inches, or one inch more than two feet. It would be twenty five inches lower than the waves which are just entering the straits, and which have lost nothing by evaporation. The salt of course cannot evaporate,and therefore the water becomes Salter in pro portion, and heavier, as its freshness is evaporated. One would think, at first glance, that the eventful result would be either that thi3 heavier and Salter water would deposit its surplus salt in the shape of crystals, and thus gradually make the bottom of the Red Sea a salt bed, or that it would extract all tho salt from the o cean to make the Red Sea brine, neither of which processes is in reality going on. The truth is that there is a constant un der or onter current, as there is from the Mediterranean through the Straits of Gib ralter, and that this heavy water or brino is continually flowing out of the Straits of Babelmandel, beneath the current of fresher and lighter water from the sea that is contiuually flowing in. If there were no waters constantly rushing out of tho Red Sea, if the evaporation wa3 suf ficient to carry -away all the surplus wa ter, leaving the salt behind, in one hun dred years the Red Sea would become a mass of solid rock salt. A Valuable Paint. A. B-, in the Country Gentleman, says: 'For the information of all wishing to ob- tain a cheap and valuable paint for build ings, I would say take common clay, (tho same that our common brioks are made of,) dry, pulverize, and run it through a sieve, and mix with linseed oil. You thon have a first-rate fire-proof paint of a delicate' drab color. Put it on as thick as practicable.' If any one has doubts with regard to the above, just tiy it a small scale paint a shingle, for iustancc, and let it dry. Recollect that it must be mixed thicker than common paints. The clay, when first dug, will bo wet or damp, but will soon dry, spread in tho air under a shelter, or, if wanted immedi ately, it may be dried in a kettle over a fire. When dry it will be in lumps, &c., aud can be pulverized by placing an iron ket lle a few inches in the ground, containinc tho clay, and pounding it with the end of a billet of hard wood, 3 inches in diame ter, 3 feet long, the lower end to be a lit tle rounded, &c. Then sift it. Any clay will make paint, but the oolors may dif fer, which ean easily be astertained by trying them on a small scale as above in dicated. By burning the clay slightly you will get a light red, and the greater the heat you subject it to the brighter or deeper tho red. JBST To see a young lady walk as though a flea was biting her on each hip it. is so fascinating. Sho is just to match for a dandy who stops liko an o-: pen-winged turkoy over a bed of hot ash-. es. " f