Terms of Publication. THE TIOGA COUNTY AGITATOR is pnb Ilsbed every Thursday Morning, and mailed la sub scribers at the very roobotiablb prltfd'df On t> fiot xje per snnnm, inoartfaMy ts sieonce. 11 is intend ed to notify every eubspribet wbeii the -ternt for which ho has paid shall have expired, by the stanip — ll Time Oat,” op the margin of the last paper. The paper will then be slopped until a (farther re mittance be received. By this arrangement no man dn be brought in debt to the printer. • The Agitator is the Official Paper of the Coun ty, with a large end steadily increasing oircplaliop reaching into nearly every neighborhood in the County. It is sent free 0/ foliage tbany Post-office within the county limits, and to those living within the limits, but whose mostconvenient poitoffice may be in an adjoining County. „ Business Cards, pot exceeding 5 lines, paper in cluded, 94 per year. HAOAR. Bho tnrnod away In doe pout grief. The time had come, eheimint depart— Ah 1 where should she now eerie relief Thrust from her master’s home and heart. Closely her Httleonoshe pressed. Vainly to soothe fata grief she trlod— Pale wanderers] weary and distressed, Hager with Ishmael by her side. Oh! she remembers happy years Far in the dim and distant past. When she could find no place for tears, Her griefs were all too light to last. Then‘She was Abraham’s chosen one Honored and loved by all around— And Tshraarl her own cherished son A father’s fond protection found Now all is changed; another hdSr Has turned away that father’s heart; Barni’s proud breast Is filled with caro— “ Let the Egyptian maid depart” My darting bor shall never shore. His father’s love with any one ; The u rhilt! of promise" is the heir— “ Cast out the bond-maid and her son.” But Ood who saw her sorrow, took Compassion on her lonely state “ He who his father’s home forsook Shall be a nation strong and great*” HU offspring soon shall fill tho land. And horooce yield to him alone , “Hisbend shall he ’gainst every hand. And evory hand against his own.” Venn passed away; that mother died And left her son a wanderer still, And soon With him as prophesied— Children and children’s children dwell. And still that fierce and daring race, Knrompod bonoath an eastern sky, Unsettled roam from place to place. Or raise again their wild wnr-crj The traveler through that dcflcrt land, Pears to meet lahmAcl’t soo’i alone: Still Is “ their hand ’pUnst every hand. And every hand against their own.” Select iHitmlianj). From “ Household Words. MY BLIND SISTER. CHAPTER I. This was how I found it out. Lellie and I were silling in the window al our work—it was some mourning we were making for our rector’s family—and il had lo be sent home the next day early. She said, “Jane.it seems as if the sun had given up shining; how dull everything looks ! Don’t you think SC I did not notice it ; there was still an hour’s daylight. She put up her hand lo her fore head as if il pained her, so I bade her go out for a turn in the garden ; we had sal close to our sewing all that day, and the young thing was lired ; even J was, and my eyes ached wearily. She went along by Ihe flower-bed, ond gathered a few roses—we were in the middle of July then—and then gave them to me through the window, saying that she would go down into the town for some trim mings we wanted lo finish the dresses. I would rather she had stayed at home, and replied that the shops would beshui ; but she was not listening, and went away down the path as 1 spoke. Il was dusk when she came oacK ; I had just shut the window, and was lighting my candle; she said, “ I could not gel ihe fringe, Jane,” and then laying her bonnet on the dresser, look up her work.— After she hod sewed perhaps five minutes she dropped her hands on her knees, and such a strange, hopeless expression came into her face, lhat i was quite shocked and frighiene. “ What oils you, Leltie ? what can have happened ?” I asked, suspecting I scarcely knew who. She looked al me drearily in silence for some moments, and then said hastily, “ I might as well tel' you al once, Jane, —I’m going blinf ” My work fell to the ground, and I uttered a startled cr. “ Don’i take on about u, Jane ; it can’t be helped.” she addec ”1; is only a fancy of yours, Letiie; I shall have you to Doctor Nash in the morn ing. What has made you lake such a no tion into your head all at once,” said I, for 1 thought this was another nervous whim.— Letiie had been a good deal indulged by our mother before she died, and had shown her self not a hale headstrong sometimes, as well as lancift.’. 11 It is of no use, Jane ; I have been to Doctor Nash myself, and he said plainly that I was going blind. [ have been to him twice belore; 1 Knew what was coming. Oh, Janev! what shah we do 1 what shall we do and having borne up thus far she broke down, and sobbed aloud, wilh her face on her arms on the table “ We shall do very well. In the first place, I don’t believe Doctor, Nash knows anything about it; and in the next, I shall have you up to London, to a great doctor, and hear what he says before 1 give in to thinking that you are to be blind all your days.” She was a little cheered by this. 11 To London, I but where is the money to come from 1” she Asked. “ Leave that lo mo. I’ll arrange some how.” ii was ver y puzzling lo me to settle how just then, but | have a firm conviction that where there is a will lo do anything, a way may generally be found, and I meant lo find it. She look up her work, but I bade her leave ii. “ You will not set another stitch, Lettie,” 1 said ; “ you may just play on your old piano, and sing your bits of songs, land get out into fresh air—you have been kept too close, and are pale lo what you were. Go to bed now, like a little lassie; I’ll do bv myself.” J “But there is so much lo finish, Janey.” “ Not a siitch that you’ll (ouch, Lettie; so kiss me good night, and get awav.” And you don’t think much of what Doc tor Nash said 1" she asked very wistfully. “ No! I’ve no opinion of him at all.’’ And hearing me speak up in my natural way, (though ray heart was doubting all the time,) she went away comforted and’in belter hope, had put it off before her, because slje would CO)3B, STDRROCK & C 0.,. VOL. 3. have' given way. to fretting, .if I had seemed to believe what t,he doctor said j but, as l drew oty needle through my work till three hours past midnight, I had often to slop to wipe the tears from my eyes. “ There were only two of us—Lettie and myself—and we had neither father nor mo* I her, nor indeed any relatives whom wa knew. , -T” For The Agitator. Lettie was seventeen, and [ was four years older. We were both dresmakers, and either worked at home, or went out by tl,e day.— We lived in a small, thatched, three-roomed cottage outside the town, which had a nice garden in from. Some people had told us that if we moved into the town we should get better employ ; but both Lettie and 'Miked the place where we had been born so much belter than the closed-in-streeta, that we bad never got changed, and were not wished to. Our rent was not much, but we were rather pul to it some times to gel it made up by the day, for our landlady was very sharp upon her tenants, and if they were ever so little behind-hand. she gave them notice directly. I set my wits to work bow to get the money (0 take Lettie to London ; but all that night no idea came to me, and (he next day it was the same. With two pair of hands we had maintained ourselves decently but how was it going to be now that there was only one! Rich folks little think how hard it is for many of us poor day-workers to live on our little earnings, much more to spare for an evil day. ■monriA. Sunday found me still undecided, but that was our holiday, and 1 meant to see Doctor Nash myself white Lellie was gone lo chapel. She made herself very nice, for she had a modest pride in her looks, which becomes a girl. I thought her very pretty myself, and so did ihe neighbors : she had deary small features, and a pale'color in her checks, soft brown hair and hazel eyes. It'waa not easy to see that anything ailed them, unless you looked into them very closely, and then there was a dimness to be seen about them, which might be disease. She had pul off thinking about herself, and was as merry as a cricket when she went down the lane in her white bonnet and clean muslin gown. She nodded lo me (I was watching her from the doorway,) and smiled quite happily. I was as ptoud of Lellie as ever my mother had been. She was always such a clever, warm.bearied little thing, for all her high temper. When she was fairly gone, and the church bells ceased, I drested myself in haste, and set off into the town to see Doctor Nash. He was at home, and his man showed me into the surgery, where I had lo wait may-be an ; hoUr. When doctor oomo In, Vto _ nftltnd sharply why I could not have pul off my visit till Monday; was my business so pressing? He did not consider how precious were the work-days lo us, or may-be he would not have spoken so—for .he was a benevolent 1 man, as we had every reason to know ; he having attended our mother through her last illness as carefully as if she had been a rich lady, though we could never hope to pay him. I explained what I had come about and he softened then, but would not alter what he had told Lellie himself. “ She has been with me three or four times,” he said. “ She is an inteiesiing little | girl; it is a great pity, but 1 do not think j her sight can be saved—l don’t indeed, Jane.” 1 He explained lo me why he was of this opinion, and how the disease would advance, more lengthily than needs lo be set down here. Then he said he could get her admitted into the Blind Institution if we liked ; and lhat I must keep her well, and send her out of doors constancy. 1 And so I went home again, with very little hope left, as you may well think, after what I had heard. I did not tell Lettie where I had been, and she never suspected. There was no chapel that afternoon, and we were getting ready to take a walk along the river bank, as we gen erally did on fine Sundays, (for all the town went ihere, and it freshened us up to see the holiday people far more tfyan if we bad slopped at home reading our books, as manjf say it is only right to do,) when one of our neighbors came in wilh her sob. Mrs. Crofts was a widow, and Harry was studying medi cine wilh Doctor Nash. They were both kind friends of ours; and, between Lettie and the young man, there had been for ever so long a sort of boy and girl liking; but I do not think they had spoken to each other yet. Lettie colored up when Harry appeared, and went into the garden to show him, she said, the white moss-rose that was full of bloom by the kitchen window; but they stayed whisper ing over it so long, that I did not think it was only that they were talking about. Then Harry went out at the gate looking downcast and vexed, and Letiie came back Into the house with a queer wild look in her face that I did not like. Mrs. Crolts said, 11 Is Harry gone 1” and my sister made a short pnswer, and went into the bed-room. “ Harry is going up to London very soon ; I shall be glad to have the examinations over and him settled. Doctor Nash thinks very well of him ; he is a good young fellow Jane.” I replied that he had always been a favorite of mine, and I hoped he would do well; but, listening for Lottie's coming to us,'perhaps I seemed rather cold and stiff; for Mrs. Crofts asked if I was not well, or if there was any thing on my miod; so I told her about poor Lellie’s sight. “ I’ve seen po appearance of. blindpesy Harry never said a word. You don’nhiiyt it can be true ?” she asked. I difl not, know whM to think. I was sure , that, in that whispering over the rose tree, my sisler had (old young Mr. Crofts; and I wished, hi* piolher would go away, thail might comfort her. At last she went. Then I called to Le'tie, who came pi once. She had beeq [in riT .xfVf'jV IV Brbotro to JtettwMptt at tfaeayts of if creßbiw gan tht Shregh ot WEIiISBOSOL’UH, TIOGA CHAPTER 11, ni) t. YT'f ’! j>!) L DOl T .IK'f I : : ■ \ Tl .T OP 4 Ikir ilife; " 1 ’l' '■> ' w J 7 ,V« is xn» BEapLisy'qr f Wuipi^. h v THUMB A¥ f EBBUAIiY MWt ■ fretting ; but.asahe triedU° hide.itrLmade np ienowki we went down tho lane to the river. meadpwa iii.silpnce. The first per. spit, we met wjas Harjy Crofts. Lettie seemed put put when bp joined us anti turned back. Eftie,, stayed,.behind] and was. presently in company with.our landlady, Mrs. Day is,'who was talcing the air ila a little wheeled chair drawn by a footman} Mrs. Davis had always noticed Lettie. Harry Crofts )ooke.d back once or twice to see if, she was following ; but, when he found she was not, he proposed to wait for her, and we sal down by the water on a tree-trunk which lay there. “ This is a sad thing about Letlie’a eyes, Jane,” he said suddenly. “ Yes, it' is. Wnal do you think about them 7 Is there any chance for her?” ‘ Doctor Ntsh says not; but, Jane, next week Pbillipson, the best oculist in England, is coming to stay a couple of days with Nash. Let him see her.” ' “ 1 meant to try lb get her to London for advice.” “ There is nobody so clever as Philipson. Oh ! Jane, I wish I had passed •‘Do you fancy 1 you know what would cure her 7"' ' “ I’d try. You know, Jane, I love Lettie. I meant to ask her ip be my wife. I did ask her'this afternoon, and she said, 1 No;’ and then told me about tier sight—it is only (hat. I know she likes mej: indeed, she did not try to deny it.” ' “ Yes, Harry, you have been so much to gether; but there mast be no talk of marry ing.” 1 “ That is what she says.” “ She is right—sjie must just stay with (lie. You could not do with a blind wife, Harry: yoti, a youn'g man, with your way to make in the world.’! ' He tbre up a hapdful of grass, and flung it upon the river, saying passionately, "Why, of all the girls in Dalston must this affliction fall on poor Lettie 7” and then he got up and walked away tel meet her coming along the bank. They had a good deal of talk to gether, which I did |not listen to; for their young hearts were speaking to each other— telling their secrets.' Lettie loved him: yes, certainly she loved hint. CHAPTER 111. Dr. Philipson’s opinion was the same as that of Dr. Nash. Lettie was not so down stricken as I had dreaded she would be, and she bade good-bye to Harry Crofts almost cheerfully when he yent up to Londo.ty, n “ There, Jane, now I hope he’ll forget me; I don’t like to see him so dull.” Thai day Mrs. Davis sent her a licket for .a.ffftncoti al the Blind Institution, and she went.' When she cakne-noum iu -i—c-u me that the girls and' b'ffys who sang looked quite happy and contented. •* And why should I not be so loo? what a number of beautiful sights I can remember which some of them never saw !” she added with a sigh. After this, imperceptibly, her sight went; until I noticed that, even in crossing the door, she felt her way before her, with her hands out. Doctor Nash again offered to use his influence to get her admitted into the Institu tion, but she always pleaded “ Let me slay with you, Janey !” and I had not the heart to refuse, though she would, have had more ad vantages there than I could afford her. Not far from us there lived an old German clockmaker, who was besides musical, ond acted as organist at the Raman Catholic chapel in the town. We had known him all our lives. Letlie often carried him a posy from our garden, and his grandchildtcn came to me for patches to dress the.ir dolls. Muller was a grim, fantastic-looking figure, but he had a heart of pnre gold. He was benevo lent, simple, kipdly ; it was was his talk that reconciled Leitie, more than any thing else, to her condition. He was so poor, yet so satisfied ; so afflicted, yet unrepining. “ Learn music—l wi'l leach thee,” he said to my sister. So, sometimes in our little par lor, and sometimes, in his, he gave her lessons in fine sacred pieces from Handel and Haydn, and taught her to sing as they sing in church es—which was grander than our simple Methodist hymns. It was a great delight to listen to her. It seemed as if she felt every thing deeper in her heart, and expressed it better than before; and it was all her conso lation to draw the sweet sounds up out of that well of let-lings which love had sounded. 1 know that, to remember how Harry loved her, gave a tenderness and patience to her suffering which it would else have lacked.— She, who used to be so quick with her tongue, never gave anybody a sharp wofd now. I do not say much about our being poor, though, ofcourse that could not but be; still we had friends who were kind to us ; even Mrs. Davis softened, and mentioned tome, under seal of confidence,'that if I could not quite make up the rent, she would not press me; but I fortunately had not to cloim her forbearance, or else I do fear she could not have borne to lose a sixpence; and when it had come to the point wd should have had to go like others; she was so very fond of mon ey, poor woman I Lettie used to go to the Institution sometimes, where ‘she learned to knit, and net, and weave basket work. Our rector (a better never lived or a kinder to the poor) had her to net covers for bis fruit trees, fishing nets, and other things; and to knit woolen socks for himself and his boys; so that altogether she contrived to make what ‘almost kept her. Now that the calamity had really come* it was not half so dreadful as it had seemed a long way off. Lettie was most ly cheerful.. I never heard her complain, but sue qsed to say, often, that there was much to be thankful for with us. She had a quiet religious feeling, which kept her from melan- and though I did not find it out till afier’wards, a hope that perhaps her affliction , f vv*v* 'Av *« in ; •night nnke dayberemoved. -''Harry Had put that thdught into'her mind) and Ido not think f ain overathting'thetruth'in saying that hie honest,‘manly ’affections for her’ wnsthe great motive to his 1 ' WOfking so hard at ! ftlb profession, inWKich he' Has si riCe’become de servedlysutcessihland, fafhous. Wehad six Verj/ quiet’jAars. It seemed to me as if LeUiehdd‘always, from the first, gone sqftly gropirig heir way, and"! had al ways led hoi to chapel' and back. Harry studied in London; iheh we Keard of him in Edinburgh; and she was half afraid he wo’d settle there and marry a Papist wife.' Letlie looked 'sorrowful and restless for a day or two aftei that, but presently recovered her cheerfulness. We had pot much change or variety at home. There' was I for ever at my work, and Leltie.at her music. She had gained a great deal .of skill, now; and many a time have 1 seen a knot of people standing at the corner of our garden hedge to listen to her singing. -1 have . heard several grand public performers since then; but never one who could touch my heart and bring the tears into my eyes as my. poor blind sister did.— On Sundays, at chapel, we could hear her voice, clear and sweet, above all the rest; and, though our tunes were wild and simple —sung by her, they were beautiful. Some times she would go to St. John’s church for the sake of the organ and the chaunting, but did not feel it right to change; habit is strong in slow, untaught people; and it did not seem as if I had kepi my Sabbath, unless I said my prayers in the homely little chapel- to which our mother had led us by the hand when we were children. Letlie loved the grand church music, and who could wonder at it, poor lassie? Once or t wice when she begged me to go with her, it had seemed to fill my heaijt wi)h pain almost ; so liow much more-must it have excited her who was all lire and en thusiasm ? She said it made her feel happier and belter, and rfibre thankful to God. Per haps in losing one sense of her enjoyment through the others grew more intense. CHAPTER IV. At the end of these six years Harry Crofis came home. He was often at our house, and we liked having him; but, though Lottie seemed happy enough, he was uneasy and discontented. I have seen him stand beside the piano, and never take his eyes off her by (ho half-hour together; but his face looked quite gloomy. At last he one day said to me : “ Jane, are you timid—l do not think Lottie is ? She seems strong npd we)l.” I knew he 'meant more than a simple inquiry after our neqres, and I asked if he thought he had found out a cure for my sister. He turned quite red. V-Usvet I have; I saw an operation perlormed in Parts qn agtrrs oyw affected. It was successful.” I said not a word. The proSpect seemed 100 good, 100 beautiful to be true! Just nt this minute Lettie came in through the door way ; there was sunshine behind her, and she appeared to bring it into the parlor with her, “ Are you here, Harry ?" she immediately asked. It was a strange thing, that although she neither saw him nor heard him speak, she was at once aware of his presence. He got up and took her by the hand, and brought her to me. “ Tell her, Jane, or shall 1?” he whispered. I signed to him to speak himself, wh'ch he did without hesitation. 11 Letlie, have you courage to undergo an operation on your eyes which may restore your sight?” She clasped her hands, and such a beauti ful color came flushing up into her face—you would have said it was an angel’s face, it changed so brightly. “Oh yes! anything, anything, Harry only give me that hope !” said she softly. I looked at him questioningly to ask if he had not better warn her of possible disappoint ment, and he said at once ; “ Letlie, I ought to tell you that jhts ope ration may fail, though I do not fear that it will. For my sake, Letlie,” he added, in an under tone. “ Well, then, for your sake, Harry,” die replied, with a low sigh. " Even if it should not give me back my sight, I shall only be as I am now." They went out in the garden together; and, from the earnest, gentle way in which Harry talked to Letlie; I know that' he was prepar ing her for what she had to undergo. She did not want for courage in any circumstan ces, and I did not look for her being weak now. , The operation was performed during the following week. Doctor Philipson and Doc- Nash were both present, but Harry Crofts did it. His nervo was wonderful. Letlie be haved admirably too; indeed, nobody was foolish but myself, and when it was over I fainted. It was entirely successful; my sis ter has her sight, now, as good as I have.— For sdtreral weeks we.kept her in a darkened room, but she was gradually permitted to face the light, and the joy ofthattimeis more than wosds can describe. Harry Crofts soon after claimed her as bis wife; and really, to say the truth, nobody had a better right to her,. The report ol (he singular cure he had made, lifted him at once into consideration; and, as he made diseases of the eye bis particular study, he is now as celebrated an ooulistas Dr. Philipson himself: many persons indeed give him the preference. The operation, then thought so much of, ia now of frequent occurrence; Lettie’s kind of blindness being no longer looked on as irre mediable. ' 1 And this is aIM need tell about our histo ry; it is not much; or very romantic, but I am often asked about it, so I have just set down the truth. The weal Her iTvery moabra (e ry, '4! vr.tt aittfioioy. 1 • : PUBLISHERS & PROPRIETORS. Letter from the West. £ £Th« iutyctfnod letter Ik from * citfaenWithliOocnty; now cntreUng'/a. the Weat. A friend has handed U in to pnhli* oatttm,’together Whh MterftTbiheW ofthe same ierfcs, The isitdlng will doubtless be interesting to.many our ntden,] Kd. Aq. Mr Dear Wife In accordance with my promise to you when 1 left Pa., I will now give a synopsis of the incidents connected with my journey to this’ point, together wjtjh Such remarks as suggested themselves as we journeyed along—hoping the derail as written, will prove as interesting to you, as did the reality to our party.' I will at pnee proceed with the narrative. ' We arrived at Corning about 4 o’clock on Monday evening ; here we were joined by Mr. B. M. Field of Lycoming county, who was soon incorporated os a member-of our party. At 6J o’clock, the same evening, we left Corning on the Express train for Dunkirk. Nothing of interest transpired until we arriv ed at Hornellsvitle, where, upon stopping the train, it was discover that we had lost the key that held on one of the Driving wheels of the Engine, which timely discovery no doubt saved us from a,Jfearful catastrophe. The deficiency was soon supplied and we “ went our way rejoicing.” The Erie Road from this point to Dunkirk is very rough, yet we met with no accident, and in due lime were safely landed at the latter place; and should you wish a more explicit description of the incidents of our journey from Horoellsvillc here, just get some one to sing you the old song of "Bobbing Round”—especially the last two words, for they are very descriptive. Here, after a delay of only i on hour, we look the cars on the Lake Shore Road, and \yere again on our way. From Dunkirk, west, rye found the railroad in good condition. We arrived at Ashtabula, Ohio, at daylight, and ajt 8 o’clock we were at Cleavelaod, Here we tye changed cars again and took the Cleave- Toledo line with a delay of only 20 rpinutes. From Ashtabula to this point, the the lands along the line of the road are low and marshy. The timber is principally Black Ash, yet there is some Sycsmorennd a lew scattering trees "of other kinds. At Cleaveland you have a fine view of Lake Erie, and on the other hand a beautiful city. The country from Cleaveland to Sandusky is very much the same as it is from Ashtabula to this point, with the exception of being a little higher land, and the limber a mixture of Oak and White Ash. There is not much of interest along this line save now and then a fine view of Lake Erie, till you get to Sun dusky, when'you cross the Bay of that name, by a Road built upon piles, With a draw Bridge in the centre, for vessels to pass to the city, which is a beautiful place, and has the -rr—ron.oq of much business enterprise.— About the time or ou, arrival here it com menced raining and continued all day, which gave a dull appearance to the whole country. From Sandusky to Toledo there is nothing to captivate the traveler, that 1 was able to dis cover. We arrived at Toledo at 2 o’clock P. M., and with a delay of a few minutes changed cars for Chicago. We took the Northern Indiana and Southern Michigan Road, and arrived at While Pigeon station at dark. There we had 20 minutes given for refreshments—the nrst opportunity we had for eating since leaving Corning. The coun try from Toledo to this point is much the same as we passed in Ohio, only it is more elevated, and the limber is changed to Oak, of a scrubby character. From While Pigeon to Chicago it was dark and ofcourse the coun try was invisible. 1 have seen no point as yet in the west that I would lake a farm as gift, if the conditions would oblige me to make it my home. Wo arrived at Chicago at 10 o’clock P. M„ and were recommended by a fellow traveler to the Merchants Hotel—went there and found jjursolves miserably sold ; .yet we managed to stay all night, and for the benefit of those who may be placed in like circumstances with ourselves, I would re mark that by reference to the [traveler's Di rectory, you will find but two Hotels, consid ered as worthy of notice in this city, (viz.) the " Tremont House,” and the " Briggs Ho tel.” Give them a trial, and if you are not suited, console yourselves with the reflection that you might have fared worse even in Chicago. In the morning we look If walk about town and become satisfied that it was at least a " fast place,” and somewhat muddy. There are to bo seen here many fine speci mens of Architecture, showing refined taste in designing and great skill in executing.— Among the moat important structures in the city, the Illinois central Depot holds a con spicuous-place. lam unable to inform you of its dimensions; but it is much larger than anything of the kind I have witb. Prom under its root 4 diffrenl trains may start at the same moment from parallel tracks; it also contains all the R, R. offices and thb' Illinois .central Land office. Uis constructed of a sort of free stone obtained some twelve mites from the city, and taken all ia all, is a tangi ble evidence of the taste and enterprise of the company to which it belongs. . At 9 J o’clock A. M. we look the train no the Chicago and Galena Union R. R., at this illation, bound for Dunloith on the Mississippi. As we star ted out from this point we had a fine view of Lake Michigan for a short distance, and then our course ted oft* to the open Prairie; and hero, for the first lime, 1 saw what I expec ted in the form of a Wester Prairie. As far as the eye can reach on either side of the R. R., there ia. nothing but one broad expanse of Prairie country, covered only by the long grass of natural growth; -The vieWsoon be came tiresome for want of-variety, but there is’no help for it but to'shut your eyes,'and a* the Dutchman expressed if—" link nothing." ThelShd here lies too low 1 to be healthy, but is of life tjjbst character. • T’ft® water Butea of Advertising- AdrertiremenUwHl (*, eluded DJ j» r iqatre of four(«cn Ihte/ftrfiiA, Unbrtioot, and 25 ww fa «iety,*«»b»(lqi»ni All advertise. eoneWawd u a asl^u^as!!; '' • ’ ■>'.,•> 6 roynth*. 12 tno'a 1 Square, (14 lines,);-f33'50 ‘ f4SO ;! gfflft 9 Squireat- '- ‘M 400 ; : 000 ■ ’ -■ »00 I cplumD, - - T . |-.10.,00,.. JSQQ >-<’>9ooo 1 colatnn,- ;„r OO ~,’ .3000, ~40 00 1 !Alf adVeHlsemente'bot havinglhe qumberof iq. eertloiwtrtarketf U'pbn’lhemiwTllhe kept in until or. deredoet,«nd (rfuTjfediafccordmgty. ; ' v ’ ■ Jt'Jfde of JoblnDr done in country .establishment!, executed neatly T end bromplly. Justices’,. Const*, blea’.and other BLANKS, constantly" on band and printed tp'ordcr.! .' I ; ; ’ ■ tl • r ' f y rf , j) t\ v'i i i I sl’» :m so. ia very poor, being a Stagnated saturated «o luliou.of calcium. The couptry from Chicago ip Freeport.ia all .about ofthis After youleave Freeport, the. Prairie ia un even or roiling, yet good farming land, until you .get near Galena, when.yqu find the coun try very much'broken and presenting & series of rocky bluffs, net very, good for farming purposes, inn rich in Mineral wealth, being underlaid with LftadOre. Prom Galena to Dunleiih, the country .is very much broken |tnd rocky.. I Dunleiih is situated on the east side of the Mississippi, opposite Dubuque, iWe arrived here about 6 o’clock P. M., on Wednesday evening. We left the cars and went imme diately on board the steamboat, “ Kate Kas sels,” bound for ibe upper Mississippi. This is a beautiful boat,, nearly new, a double decker, 136 feet long and 35 feet in width and furnished in magnificient style. Here, Mr. Field met with the loss of his trunk. It was checked from the cars to the boat, but it did oot come on board) with the rest of our bag gage. It was either stolen or left .by acci dent, probably stolen. ( Its contents were worth $175, and will nodoubt prove a total loss, for we had no time'to stop and investi gate, as this boat was the last of the season, and we considered ourselves fortunate in not having our bodies left behind. We slarted,in the night up and all went merry as a marriage bell, until about an hour before daylight, when wa were all startled a by a vio lent shock of the boat, indicating that we bad met with something to arrest our progress rather, 100 sudden to be desirable. Of course there was a rush, some cried “ collision,” and some cried “ snagged,” but after a season of confsioa, it was ascertained that we had only run on a sand bar, and had received no serious damage. In a short lime we got off, and wdnt plowing up the Father of Waters.— The upper Mississippi is filled with innumer able small Islands. The current is very strong and is continually throwing up new and changing uld sand bars, making it necessary to run all sides of the river to keep in the channel, especially when the water ia low, which at present is the case. It has been very low all the fall, so that boats were only able to carry about £ tneir usual freight, and the consequence is, there are hundreds of tons of freight lying at Dunleiih and Dubuque, that will not get to its destination this season. Some up-ihe-river merchanlsltave from ten to twelve thousand dollars worth of goods lying here, which purchased in the cast three months ago, and will have to lie here till neat spring. Our merchants of the east would, 1 6pine f think this ratheT’unlucky ; and I don’t know but western merchants lake the same view of the case; I presume they do, but it can’t jbe helped. The charges this fall have been bdvnnced on freight to 82,50 per hun dred froin Dubuque to St. Paul, owing tothe low stage of water, and the large amount of freight. The usual fare for passengers from Dubuque to St. Paul has been $4, but this fast trip they raised the fare to 820, which I call a slight advance on previous rales. As you pass up the Mississippi you will see on either side one continuous line of rocky bluffs, ranging from 50 to 400 feet in height, and presenting in form, very much the appearance of a loaf of rusk broken through the centre, (a homely comparison but I hope intelligible.) At 4 o’clock P. M. on Thursday, we arrived at McGregor’s landing, a nourishing business place, situated on the west side of the Missijj sippi, opposite the mouth of the Wisconsin River. Two miles above this place and on the opposite or east side of the river, is Fort Crawford, at Prairie Ducbien. There are also in this vicinity, some fine forms.- But as I find myself obliged to close for want of space, 1 will allow you to consider our parly in Fort Crawford, or on the roiling deep, or some other good place, until my next letter, when I will give you a sketch of our peregrinations from'this point around. In the mean time believe me os ever « Vegeta di# Sqdps, —All vegetables &aA are pul into soups should be put iulo cold wa-. tc* an,d gcadnally brought to the boiling point. This will cause them to. disuse IheTt Jgvoi; through the the whole mass* Irish, potatoes, should never be pul in soups until 15*8* ijpy,, ing been cut up in cold water. This extracts, their bitterness and renders them fit to min, gle in the vegetable mass. The meats to f|a, vor vegetable soups may be beef, veal, mu;,, ton or chicken, and like the vegetables sho’d bo pm into oold water. There are fewet; good soups made in the country than ahnoit), any other dish, and the reason is obvious— it lakes lirpe to cook them. An okra gumbo, soup should boil incessantly six hours, thpo, the flavor of the meat, vegetables and condi ments are so intimately and delicately blend-, cd that (hoy Q H seem one delicious, mass. Salt hardens water and flesh, and sho.uld not,’ be pul into soups until the mass is done. Dobs the World hate Piety?—lnrp ply to this question, the celebrated Sidney Smith says : 11 It is not (rue that the world hates piety. That modest and unobvious pi ety which fills the heart with all human char ities, and makes man gentle to others and se vere to himself, is an object of universal Ibvp and venerattop. gut mankind bate tbe lust of power when it (8 veiled under the garb of piety; they hate capt and hypocrisy; they hale advertisers and quacks in piety; they, do not choose to be insulted; they love to tear folly and impudence from the altars which should, only be a sanctuary for the righteous and the gncd.” Betting is immoral, but how can the ropq who beta be worse'that' La who is no ler ? Yours affectionately,. Soperiob, Wis., Dec. ’56, C. V.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers