Terms of I*nl>Hcalioii.
the TIOGA COUNTY AGITATOR ia pub.
liahed every Thursday Morning, and mailed lo sub
cd to notify every subscriber Wbitf tbe term fbt
wMtetf&e bis-paid *faiU have expired, by the stamp
Out/’ qdi the margin oflbe’fcat paper.
millance be received. By this arrangement no man
can be brought in debt to the printer.
Tnft- A6rtATOR 'ia Unofficial PopCr bf lhe Coun
ly,.wUb aI tr get-and rteadily increasing circulation
reaching, ilUo nearly every neighborhood, in the
County. V, is seni free of poiiage to any r oat-office
the county limits, and lo those living fljtmq
the limitsftul whose mbstconvehieiit postofficC may
Ife in an adjoining County. - Vf
Business Cards, not exceeding S' lines, paper in
cluded, fc4 per year. * . i
~ foe Tfcq Agitator,
wEVERT HEART K.NWEXH US OWN BITTERNESS."
BV KIM M« fc. PO.OP,
There Is no broW, hoWevAr gay aud-brigbi,
But knows a,shads of caro;
There Is no eye, of pert And lustrous light
But knowa the horning (ear.
there are few hearts bat-hide within their l doopa
Sompailentfoupt of grief;
Where the ptond spfrtt ’sits alone, anflweepi
The woes it will not breathe
St± down the spirit*! deop of- deeps there lie
yOrcat mines of golden thought;
A (housamf forms of gorgeous Imagery,
. Which tbo bUdd world ftocs noU
And in Us silent chambers, many a joy
Sleeps on its early bier;
Andover the relic time cannot destroy
falls many a burning te&j.
And flcrw'rs of Hope have wither'd, droop’d’and died,
'While bursting into bloom
And tbo pole phantoms of lost pleasures, glide
Around their early tom:
Ye know not, as ye mark the smiling brow,
Or watch the sparkling eye.
The grleft that weigh upon the spirit now,
Though roiled when ye are nigh.
Penlgonlly, then, with every human heart—
AW not one drop oT woe
*To tb« full gobleti—■which a roie’» leaf
Might cauuo to overflow.
Select jHigeeilauiL
From the New York Ledger.
THE FOUR TRAVELERS.
BY AUCBCARY.
The night bad shut in with snow, and by
nine o’clock the wind which drove gustily
from wood \o meadow, and from meadow to
wood, had piled a great drift against the door
of a small tavern, where sat three men around
ns bright a wood fire as ever, with its red
sparkles, drove away the thoughts of a black
and stormy mg:.
' The snow was ol that fine and flinty quality
which strikes against the traveler’s face like
needles and the wind of that prying and fa
miliar description that ruffles and tumbles
hair and garments, turns umbrellas inside
out, and causes the luckless wayfarer to peep
about him for the friendly glimmer of some
wayside ligh’
Our travelers were therefore nothing sur
prised when the door opened and a ’stranger
entered. He was a little pale-faced man,
wim a quiet look ; and having placed his
small bundle noiselessly on the floor, and
brushed the snow from his thin cloak, he
advanced toward the landlord and inquired
ir. a voice’ singular!' - sweet and modest
whether he could be accommodated with
lodgin'
“No answered the host, in a tone meant
perhaps to be only decided, but which was in
reality rude, greatly beyond the requirement
of denial, for in truth he liked not the thread
bare garments and altogether unpromising
appearance of the strangeV —besides, his en
trance had interrupted a charming story
which one of the three accommodated trav
elers wifs relatir,:
“ I suppose your little tavern is already
crowded,” said the pale, little stranger, speak
ing sweetly and modestly as before, “ and 1
ought to have known better than to intrude—
pardon mo, my good friendand stepping
toward the candle, which shone across the
weli-sp'ead table, he tooK from’his pocket a
lank purse, and with one hand shook out of
ii halt a dozen pieces of silver into the palm
of the other The frozen 'expression about
the landlord’s mouih began to thaw into
something like a smile, as he said
" Perhaps, if • one of my guests should
eonseni to share his bed, 1 might manage;’’
and me gentlemen at me fire began to draw
back their chairs, so as io widen the circle.
Not heeding these friendly premonitions,
however, the stranger selected the price of a
night’s lodging supper, and presented it
lo the landlord saying. “ [ looked through
vour window, my good sir, and In imagina
tion warmed at your hre, and feasted at your
tabic—take what t owe you, lor though you
blessed me unaware, v am none the less your
debtor.
And having said this, tie closed the door
softly, and stepped oul into the snow. The
landlord sat down, grim and troubled—the
candle began to crow dim, and the fire which
a little while beiorc had blazed so high and
so bright, to fall together and darken.
“i wish me young man had cursed me,”
said me uneasy landlord, breaking silence, at
las,, “instead oi leaving me tins silver;”
and rising with abiupi energy, he threw the
money oul into mo snow, as if the holding of
il burnt Ins nanu.
“j can appreciate your feeling, my dear
sir,’ saul one of me inree trailers, unbutton
ing his great coal and (frawing a long breath,
gs it to relieve himself of some troublesome
moughts. Tnen stirring the hre,he answered
me looks of inquiry directed toward hftj) by
saying, “One stormy night like this, when I
was a lad somewhere about ten years old,
mere was a knocking at me door, and I ran
to open it, supposing I knew who was coming,
tor we lived in a secluded country neighbor
noon, and were not likely, especially after
night, 10 see strangers. When, therefore, 1
saw by the light of me candle 1 held in my
hand, a tali, gaum fellow, with great black
eyes, hugging a rifle wnhin one arm, and a
tjnapsack in the oiner, 1 drew back with a
manner that was unmistakable—the strapeer
grinned, and there was a smothered litterbin
me circle about the fire. My first glance at
mo stranger, as he stepped within ifoe door,
was one of flushed apd fiery indignation. He
returned ii with a respectful nod, but there
were sonje twitches about the corners of bis
mouth that showed me hotf njpcb bo enjoyed
my confusion
"He proved td'be an adventurer—a young
back-woodsman in search of his fortune,
which ha hfiped to find as the ‘/fired rpap' of
some farmer. The night was as wild as this,
and it was soon agreed,that the young man
should remain with us till mornfhg, and his
proposition meanwhile (fe held under con
sideration.
■M P MlfP#©
;v n '
« V
1 “
I l i • 1,. *tb ,T ’ i.. ' • » ’t) M'l ',l •; 'j'sW'i' "•f 1 J bi , ' Jtm 1 "* 1 1 111 ■I I ■ ri • i 1
M4f>t avmM jfm&omßnJj m Spread *t ©fnltfts Wmm
COI3B, fe CO.,
VOL. 3. '
. “During the evening!. I .was the -.object- of
many n satirical shall—and theyoungman,
whose Christian name was Bartlett, suggested
that l-wae admirably calcolatedto hunt bears.
To keep a steady eye upon one of them crk
tarsi he said, and-step- backward from him,
just as' 1 bad retreated from himself, was the
■true way.to bow themdown.
“Yon blight-imagine that my. first 'preju
dice against him was. deepened . considerably
by this and kindred allusions, and-that‘l
parted from him for the night with, feelings
bordering very closely upon hatred. 1 lay
awake, 1 . remember, trying' to compose a
challenge, and selecting from among my
school-mates a boy-who I thought would have
■courage enough to present it. 1 To make (he
story short—my father - hired the man-bo
was to perform such form labor, errands and
chores as were required of him, and to re
ceive for a term of three months of this son
of service twenty-five dollars, having also
his board and washing, but that’s neither here
por there. For the- life of me I could not
bvercome my first dislike, but it soltened
somewhat, and I delayed my revenge indefi
nitely.' u
“The first week of Bartlett’s apprentice
ship I was busy most of the lime in a small
shop adjoining the stable, where harness and
tools of various kinds were kept, in an at
tempt to make a handsled—which was the
greatest object of my boyish ambition. Once
or twice, when Bartlett stopped at the door, I
slammed it in his, face, and by other little at
tentions of the same nature> gave him to un
derstand that any amicable relations betwixt
him and me was altogether out of the ques
tion.
“At last the sled, a rude and clumsy affair,
was completed, and hung up on a peg oppo
site the door.
“After supper I went to view my treasure
once more, and to persuade .myself that it
was better than it was, for I had not equalled
my expectations,and was very much dissatis
fied, notwithstanding my efforts to the con
trary.
"What was my surprise and indignation to
find Bartlett curiously examining my clumsy
mechanism 7
“My first impulse was to shut and lock (he
door, and having once done it, I was ashamed
to undo my work, but went suddenly to the
house, resolved that I would return when it
was quite dark and set my prisoner at liberty.
The key of (he padlock was still in my hand
when I entered the house, and for the need
of doing something I slipped it over my fin
ger, and began swinging it about. Naturally
enough, I los» control of it presently—it flew
across the room and hit my father in the
face—he quietly put it in his pocket, and sent
me to bed in disgrace. I might have eiepi on
the rack as well—not once did 1 close my
eyes, and such fearful imaginations as haunt
ed me, heaven grant I may never be troubled
with again.
“The night was intensely cold—the work
shop was open, and in the best winter weather
decidedly uncomfortable —perhaps Bartlett
would freeze to death! The more I thought
of it the more likely it seemed to me that he
would j then, of course, I would be taken to
prison, and in the end either have my head
cut off, or be hanged I 1 wished I had never
seen Bartlett, and, above all things, I wished
[ had not locked him up in the workshop I
That night was so long, I thought I could
have walked around the world before the first
glimpse of daylight. Be surd I was up at
cock-ciowing time, and at the door of the
workshop a minute thereafter, trembling in
every limb. I listened, but not a sound could
1 hear. Bartlett was, no doubt, past making
any noise. At length fear lent me courage,
and ) called—no answer; then 1 knocked
and shouted —still no reply. At last I fell on
my knees and wrung my hands, and prayed
with all my might. The cold was certainly
very intense, were stiff, as
with the whitening dayligKrhpressed my face
against the cracks of the door, to see if 1
could discover the corpse of Bartlett,
“Presently my eye began to distinguish
objects, and it was not long in fixing itself
upon one—not Bartlett, but (he most work
man-like and beautiful new sled imaginable,
hung up in the close neighborhood of my
poor and unsatisfactory one.
“While I stood lost in wonder and admira,
lion, ( heard a footstep, and turning round,
stood face to face with Bartlett, wj>o, safe
and sound, was coming into (he barn-yard to
attend to his morning work. Beseemed not
to observe me particularly, but went about
his chores as if nothing had happened.
“Shame, mortification, and sorrow weighed
me to the earth, and in spite of the desperate
effort I mac|e to divert myself, by picking the
burs from the tails of the ojfeo, I finally burst
into tears.
“ ‘Why blesa.me, my little man, what is
the matter? Are you freezing?' exclaimed
Bartlett, approaching me; and dropping from
beneath his arms two bundles of oat-straw,
which ho carried preparatory to feeding ihe
sheep, he began to chute my hands, while he
bent over rpa in the tepderesl apd most affec
tionate manner.
“ ‘I am DQf freezing, partied,' I sobbetf at
last. 'I am crying because you worked in
the cold and made me such a nice sled, and
after I bad locked you up, too !’.
“*0 never mind the locking up,’ said
Bartlett j ‘if I never have a' worse jailor I
may thank my stars—but come, let 1 us try
the new sled P and bringing it out of the
workshop (he had the key in his pocket) he
placed me,'together with (ho two bundles of
sllraw upon it, and away be rap, t|fagging iflfi
aflerhim, down the hollow, api) up tlje hill
to the sheep-pasture, my flne'neiv tfleti dividf
ing Hocks of gobbling turkeys antj gabbling
geese, as we went. '
WEU.SBOEOU6H, TOGA COT'NTV. PA., THTROJAT HORSING, MARCH 19, 1857.,
: • V .. A .A't V. I'- 1. „/ i ' It . ... • .. t-- - . ’■ ? * *’ '
‘•After that ybpmay be sure that Bartlett
never did ’the' morning' 1 chores hlonbi and
uUirbately tAd mprtis|ng of thd sled was not
raortiarm th4(n (hat 'Whfchjoined our hearis.”
! “How' did HeOltbajfe frain ybtif ifrishn 1”
ashed Ana of' rtjer three travelbre. With• 1 a pe
culiar expression of (hoe Avhich showed that
some secret feeling of his oWn ha'd found
sympathy. . . ‘ 1 “
' ‘‘Ah, I forgot that,” replied the story-
One end', of the woskshop there
was a window not mUch‘ higher' front the
ground than a man's head, from Which I
always supposedJie lei Himself down; I'never
really knew, for the stibjdct w&a one which I
was very careful not to revive. I would give
a great deal to see Barllstt now; musingly
concluded the traveler,' It must be twenty
five years since we parted; but I have the
little sled at home in a state of perfect preser
vation.”
“Ha ha,” laughed Ihe third traveler, who
had hitherto gat silent in the dimmest corner.
"I am very glad to hear it, sir, for I consid
ered it quite a triumph of ingenious work
manship, at the time; especially in view of
the circumstances under whicji I wrought—
my only light being manufactured from a rag
and cup of grease, previously used for bright
ening up the harness!” As he finished speak
ing, he arose end shook hands with the story
teller so heartily, that all present must have
recognized by it the generous maker of the
sled; even without the confirmation of words.
The landlord punched the fire with terible
energy, and having turned toward it, back
and face repeatedly, said as he hastily drew
on his overcoat—“its no use!—all the fire in
the World could not make one warm while
that poor young man is out in this miserable
storm.’’ And opening the door without more
ado,' he dashed out into the night and the
snow.
“Your story reminds me,” said the second
traveler, “of an early experience of tiny own
whichlias probably had a greater influence
on my life and character than any other sin
gle event of my life, but ifie confession
involves a degree of guilt on my part which
["might well shrink from, were I not sure that
it links itself to no similar transgression
anywhere along my subsequent life.”
“Your face sufficiently attests that,” re
marked the old sled-maker, encouragingly,
and the third traveler went on : “When I
was about thirteen years old there came to
live in our neighborhood a rich man— a Gen
eral Brown. He had wife, children, and
servants-—horses, carriages, and dogs; but
of these I have more especially Ip do with
two—one of the daughters—a beautiful and
saucy little girl of ten years—and one of the
dogs—a beautiful and saucy little puppy—the
IdttQr | itio prujraity wf -\|i« Cmmap.... .
“I was a poor boy, but independent in dis
position, and perhaps from a set se of disad
vantage, a little insolent in bearing—especi
nll/towards my superiors. Il happened that
I passed General Brown’s house twice every
day as I went to, and returned from school,
and this little puppy barked at me regularly,
morning and night, with a degree of malig
nity which I construed into a pointed insult
from the whole from Miss
Jeuuy, the mistress of the offending puppy.
She was often in the door-yard, and it ap
peared lo me that she look pleasure in the
belligerent manifestations of her favorite. —
One day whence flew at me with unusual
demonstrations of ill will, I shook my fist in
his face, which so angered him that he fol
lowed me some distance down the road snap
ping at my heels. Seeing (hat Miss Jenny
was watching us from the grass-plot, and ap
parently enjoying my retreat, I picked up a
sharp stone, and sent it at the young tiger
with such force as to send him back limping.
Truth is, I construed the ill-manners of the
puppy'into an insult from all the members of
General Brown’s family, as before remarked.
“The spirit of Pet, for so his mistress
called him, was not at all subdued by the
blow 1 had given him; on the contrary,!
found him more troublesome than before, and
once when he look me at disadvantage and
startled me into a betrayal of fright by growl
ing suddenly at my heels, his pretty little mis
tress clapped her hands in a most provoking
way.
“That day I determined on revenge, and it
was not long in coming—l stole the dog, and
sent him opt of' Ihe neighborhood! Two
years afterwards he was brought to me, as
noble a specimen of his species as ever' was
seen. He soon grew very fond of me, and
I, notwithstanding my old dislike, came to be
lieve he was the best and bravest creature in
the world.
“I had seen Jenny Brown a great many
times, meanwhile, for as she rode in her car
riage to the' academy, and I walked behind
to the district school at moch about the same
hour, it not unfrequently happened that we
met, but we had never bestowed upon one
another so much as a recognizing glance.
“When the weather was unusually fine,
Jenny would sometimes walk home in the
evening. Upon one of these occasions, and
by one of these ordinations that mete opt jus
tice to alt. 1 my dog, that I had named Snarler,
jn remembrance qf his old tricks, flew at Ihe
little girl and bit one of her hands severely.
Forthwith be was reported mad, and the in
dignation of the whole neighborhood was di
rected, not only against my dog, but against
myselPrr“What business had the little rascal
to keep such ah ugly great brute, at any
rate 7” was the general exclamation. Some
went ad far as tq say it was a pity it had not
been me who was bitten instead of (be dear
Ijitle girl, while others declared that the? oply
wqitet) llje opportunity pf- seftipg their owp
dogs qpoq tpa. Poor §narlef ha(j tq
his life for bis bSd behavior, InvSin [plead
for him—in vain I proposed t(r confine him
j rrtid {■
v:! I .* .'nt ufi 'jV-vl;*'! >-1:! -i; y ■ vryi“s> f v » i
“THE AGITATIOH IS THE BEOISHTHO OP VflM>OJlj”
ti . . ‘ i i
V 1
i» x . >• ""“i-jK "" ' ' 1,1-
M thal he could do no farther hajrm.for I
oould not at first be persuaded fhat-.my braye
and beautiful favorite was really mad. Pub
lic opinion ran,against 1 me with such despe
ration, however, that,l was forced, to, yield,
and: indeed my own ,fears were so wrought
u ß°n by repprts of Jenny's,critical condition,
that I,would scarcely have objected to lay my
head on (he block. My apprehensions were
carried up to the point of .distraction almost,
when I learned that the gneat Dr. ——, who
lived fifty miles distant from General Brown’s
bad been sent for to visilhts daughter. Night
after night I lay fewake, and I cannot \hinlc
that the sufferings of any martyr who'ever
felt the fire' wrapping about him a sheet of
fid me, can have exceeded what I endured.
There was one reflection of peculiar bitter
ness in the circumstances—l had stolen the
dog! (hen, too, by causing him to (beget his
mistress, I was the occasion of his bringing
her to the most horrible of deaths,
If there had been in the neighborhood a
confessor to whom I might havd gone with
the terrible truth that was j 1 rising the very
life out of me, it would have beep the great
est jmagiuable relief, but with that awful se
cret stifled iu my heart, it seemed to me that
I must'die. When it was told me one day
that Gen. Brown hadjuat driven up to the
door of our house, in his carriage, | positive
ly trembled with agitation and fright—and
even after he had shaken hands and spoken
kindly with me, I could qot help fearing be
had a hangman’s rope concealed beneath his
cloak.
“He came, simplyto ascertain bur opinion
as to whether the dog was-snadjjr not, and
also to assure me of his deep interest in. me,
and sympathy for me. ‘Suppose you ride'
over with me,’ he said, when he was about to
take leave; “il would be a great relief and
comfort to Jenny to hear you, yourself ex
press the belief that the dog was not mad."
“I was an awkward youth, and my em
barrassment rendered any sensible apology
utterly out of the question, and if the Gene
ral had asked me to accompany him to Lon
don, I must have done so.
“Through a great hall, and up a wide stair
case 1 was conducted, seeing nothing distinct-'
ly, but feeling almost overborne by a dim
consciousness of magnificence, and thence
into a room of such luxuriance elegance of
furnishing, as might, 1 thought at the lime
befit a queen. Thera reclining on a low bed,
pale almost as her white dress, was the un
fortunate Jenny, She lifted herself up-when
she saw me, and, Teaching forth her hand,
smiled so. sweetly as to make my evil doing
seem darker than it had ever seemed till then..
I thought she was an angel, and I a devil, and
resolved that I would not add hypocrisy to
y wickedness. I strip! off the mask
the first moment I roUifd iiryseir atone —tit.
her, and showed myself in all my evil de
formity. Hearing the footsteps of her father
approaching, she hurriedly, and with a look
of sweet trouble in her face, lifted up one
little white hand, whispering at the same time
the softest of hushes! There was something
in the tone and the manner that unlocked a
deeper deep in ray heart than had ever been
touched before—something that said as plain
ly as words could have said il-=-'fdon’t let
father know how bad ypu are—l don’t care
anything about it,”
“A secret of any sort between two young
persons is dangerous—we found this one of
ours so, extremely, for it led to another one
before long, the revealing of which would
have been the spoiling of all our happiness.
When Jenny was fifteen, we were engaged,
Mrs. decision to the contrary
notwithstanding. She had brought her bus,
band a good deal of money, and though she
had chosen a man with no fortune whatever,
she was violently opposed to having her
daughter follow the example she set. What
the result was you can all guess—we stole
away one rainy midnight, and at sunrise were
man and wife; and -Jenby, God bless her,
notwithstanding the bite of Ihe dog, has nev
er to my knowledge been mad for a single in
stant.”
“And were the old folks ever reconciled 7”
asked the first traveler.
“Heayep only knows,”-=-rep!ied the happy
husband. I have never seen the face of either
of them Since —but I have no doubt that our
runaway match was the best thing that could
have happened—it threw me upon my own
energies; fortune smiled, apd I rather think,”
concluded our traveler, leaning back in his
chair complacently, “that I could buy Gen.
Brown’s grand estate to-day, without much
inconvenience to ipysplfl”
“Apd his good will you always bad,” ex
claimed the old sled maker, coming out of the
shadow in which from the' beginning of the
story he had been silting, and shading hands
as heartily as he had done with the first trav
eler. “How is Jenny 7 how is my little run
away 7—bless her dear soul I”
Teat's were ip (he old man’s eyes, as he
spoke, which pei tfrer of the yopnger travelers
thought incompatible with the dignity of his
grey hcsrd.asthey fell and glistened upon il.
At this juncture there was a great stamp:
ing at the door, and fh 6 instant it. qpened
and our host entered, followed Jjy the Ijule
pale mao, smilipg pi the good fortune which
had overtaken him. If the storm howled
after that, nobody heard it, and four more
genial travelers peyer -sat down to a good
supper with better, appetite, than did those we
write of, and never landlord brushed (he cohr
webs from old wine bottles with a readier
hand, that) d;d our host of the tyayside tav
ern.
Theory is contiriually the precursor of
truth; we must pass through the twilight and
its shadowsi to'UffirS at thß fulKkn'd' perfect
light of day; ■'
JJf.fl j£flU 0
& PROPRIETORS.
Communications
. f i. * ‘‘* Por TRo -ffitotor.
Thelibiiatlon, Main
tenance of Oomkoi) Ro&dq;
, An eminent, engineer. gg4 pays on
this subject, that, ".The common roads o/tffe
United. States tiff, inferior to those of any
other ciptfized country., 1 .Their /nulls, ,■ are
those of direction, slope, shape, surface and
generally of deficiency in a/f'the'attributes
of a goad road ; moat Of‘Which ariaeTrorn a
wanfqf jjtß tree principles of road-making,
qf bf tHo advantages of putting them into
practice',” y ' ■
The faults oif direction and slope are inva
riably connected, for if there is a laultimhe
latter it shows a fault in the former, as the
slope is increased or diminished fay the direc
tion of the road in ascending Ifaat slope.
As there is always more or less hill to be
overcome in every route, we must consider
how much hill, or how stefep a slope is admis
sable, and how these can be overcome to the
best advantage.
There is a variety of opinions concerning
the greatest allowable slope, varying from
three degrees to as high as seven or even ten
degrees. Those who laid out our old roads
seemed.to have had no limiting angle, and in
fact, no fixed principle of road>makipg at all,
but like Marshal Wade had “formed the heroic
determination of pushing their wa'y through,
aqd of defying nature and wfaeel-carriages
both, in one voiianl efiurl of courage and
science,*’
Many limes they seemed to act on the
principle that the- bale of a kettle is much
shorter when turned in a vertical position
than when lying horizontal; and to such an
exTeßt~waajhis often carried as to make the
road absolutely more crooked to keep within
this all important principle. They intro,
duced Hogarth’s "line of grace” l 6tievery
possible occasion, and often remind us of how
‘TThe king of Fmnce with forty thousand men,
Marched up a hill, and theft vfafchtH (jowit ayain."
Bui because roads were laid, having steep
slopes in them, it is no reason why we should
adopt that in our new ones, or even follow the
old ones, as if all their makers did was as
.unalterable as the laws of the Medes and Per
sians.
The greatest allowable slope varies slightly
when considered as an ascent or a descent.
In the latter it should never exceed the “angle
of repose” in mechanical science, which is
the angle made with the horizon by the steep
est plane, down which .a body will .not slide
of its own accord, its gravity just balancing
its friction, so that (he least increase of slope,
or the least force applied, will cause (he body
to descend with a uniform and unaccelerated
velocity. This slope will of course vary with
the nature of the surface, being much less on
it smouilr ihon an uneven one. But as we
earnestly look forward to an 1 improvement in
surface, it is best to take such a surface for
our data, as would do credit to any community
to possess. Qn the very best class of broken
stone, or plank roads kept in Ihe best order,
this limiting slope is, according to experiments
by Sir Henry Parnell, 1 in 35, or falls 1 151
feet to the mile, which therefore should be ihe
maximum on such roads, and if this slope be
much increased, the speed must be slackened
t»r there is danger of injury to the animal
or carriage. If the slope is increased so a
carriage cannot be driven down it with safety
at a greater speed than four miles an hour,
there evidently is a loss of [etj minutes in.
every mile, and therefore it would be true
economy in time saving to adopt a level route
Ibree times as long as the steep one.
Considering a slope as an ascent, its maxi
mum will vary according to the amount of
extra exertion a horse can put forth. This
is not very well ascertained or defined, and
depends very much on the length of the as
cent, hut is assumed by Cayffier to be double
his usual exertion. Assuming the same class
of roads as before, it is found that on such,
the amount of power necessary to draw a
load on a level is about one thirty-fifth of the
load, and if the horse is capable of exerting
twice that amount, the slope that would re
quire that extra power to overcomejthe force
of gravity, is found to be just 1 in 35, hence
on this hypothesis, this would be the maxi
mum. These two results become equal be
cause the amount of extra exertion is assumed
as double the usual force of traction, although
fora very short hill, a horse js capable of
’exerting six times his usual force, still about
twice his usual exertion seems the most rea
sonable. Hence the greatest allowable slope,
should never exceed 1 in 80, or } in 35,
which is one degree and fifty-eight minutes,
or 6he degree, fifty-five minutes,
The laws of Pennsylvania fix the slope ?t
“five degrees whenever it is practicable, (e*-
cepf’at the crossing of ravines qnd streams)
where, by a moderate filling and bridging the
inclination can be kept within these limits.”—
(See Roads, Highways and Bridges, Sec, A,
Art 3d.) This, nngle gives us a slope ol ope
in eleven, up which, the same force of trac
tion will draw only one quarter the load that
can be drawn on a level road, of the sarpe
quality of sarfupe.
The passion tor straightness which is the
predominant one at present, is too apt to
make the viewers think it is ‘impracticable' lo
keep the road within the |iniit of Rye degrees,
and thus it is we have mapy roads with slopes
of Irpm thf.ee tq eight flr lep degfees. The
writer quoted at the commencement of this
ayt’ple says, “Il cannot be too strongly im
pressed op the road-maker that straightness
■3 no t the highest characteristic of a good
road, but should in all eases be sacrificed to
make aroad level, or lessstepp, ’’ which may
often be done without a| all lengthening the
route. .For jnsfance, (ei ha)f an egg ho Hid
ppq(ab|e, ant) - lei il pe required to draw a
|‘ihe (rOih 6np end to the other passing oVer
Bates of Advertising, ~
AdvertltemenU will b« charged SI per square of
fourteen lines, for on®, or three iMertiooiAnd 95
pent* fur evbry •nbseqobnt Insertion. All aOUttWl
menu of lest'Utah ftuheoa ‘lines’ottftdertt) ai a'
Muaie, _ The _following rale, will be chained for
Quarterly*HalCtearljr dnd Yearly advertising V
■ 3 months. 6 months. 12 *oo’i
1 Bqoare, (14 line*,) .*3 50 ' #4W 1 V 00
9 Square*,'- - . - . 400 6 00, 800
Ifolumn,;- 10 00 }sdo BOflq
1 column, 18 00 30.00 4,0 00
r ; ; ; M
V f • ’ k.
? ;*
All adverliaomenU not having the number of in
sbrtte'nb (rt»<hetfn'soh them', iilPbo hepjf |h'hritfl 6j
flered ctlt, and ohafged‘accordingly. " ■ '
‘.'fosters, flapjjbilfs, jp.iind Letter Headland al(
jdnds or Jobßirig done in 'conhtry eatabOahmenla,
-executed nehtly and promptly'. ' Justices’, Consu.
ble*' and Other BLANK 3, ConStantly on band and
printed to order. • ’ - ', " l>a
KQ. 3*.
the lop. This line would appeal straight
when drawh on a ! map, qfhi|e a level Jifle
'traced round" ihp ,ba§e of ihe. pgg wou|d ap ;
pear cmokfd, and of greater length, while
both are equally crooked and of equal length.
But suppose the apparent straight route to be
the Shortest, but to have a number of steep
slopes, would it be an advantage to lessen
.these by a moderate increase of length 1 The
'tnefesl tyro in foad-ipqking roust answer in
the aflirmaiive, Then, how far may we with
strict economy increase.the route ? This toe,
will very witkifie,amount of friction assumed,
hut "as q general rule,” says Qillespls, ‘‘it
mqy be increased to avoid qp aqcept, to at
least twenty or thirty times the height of the j-l
s|opp.” Thus if a road up a elopp has q bori- ’
zontal distance of 500 feet, and arise of 100,
that is a slope of } to j}, it would be good
economy to adopt q (pad 2000 or 3QOO feet
longer in its stead, if such a road ip level, or
in ihSi proportion to obtain one of an easier
slope, which can be done either by winding
around the hjil or ascending the slope by a
zig zag line. One of these methods should
always be adopted on islopes greater than
our maximum. By the latter ipelhod any de
sired grade may be obtained, as the line can
be made of any length, qqceeding the line di
rectly up the slope.
Thus we see the advantages of making
curves instead of straight lines fop rpnds'dl)
this billy region. Coleridge says,
'‘Straight forward goes
The lightning’s flash, and straight the fearful path
Of the cannon-ball."
But adds in striking contrast:
‘The tho Aumun being travels,
That on which blessing comes and goes, doth follow
The river’s coarse, tho valley’s playful windings.
iJurvtt rotyqd the cornfield aqd the UU of vines.”
More in the future, C. If. HOYT,
What Makes Old Maids and Bachelors.
We will pajpt a picture—one in which the
lights and shades appear strong, perhaps, but
whtch every one will recognize as not out
raging the timnr'of-nature. There are two
houses built side by one dwells
a widow and her daughter, fair, light-hearted,
the sunshlpe of her mother's declining years,
but alas! not rich. With all the affectionate
instincts of a woman’s heart, with all the ca
pabilities to create happiness in a man’s house,
she remains unseen and unchosen. As time
passes on, she gradually deepens into old
mnidism. Where once she was heard singing
about the home, like Una making a sunshine
in the shady place, her voice is now heard
shrill in complaint; parrots and cats accu
mulate, taking the place of a more human
love, and her words are those ofj sharp re
proof and spile against those very instincts
of maternity which have beep so long the
master-spirit of her thoughts. .Her affections. 1
after in vain throwing themselves out to seek
some sympathetic answer, turn tn with"bitter
ness upon her own heart, and she remains
tint most melancholy of all soectacies—n
nature with aspirations unfilled. In the-next
house lives a bachelor—yefung, open-hearted
and generous. Busied in lid struggle of life,
he has perhaps no lime for parties ; he sees
little of society, the female portion of it es,
pcoially ,• a knowledge of his own brusque,
ness of manners at first prevents him from
coming jn contact wjth womankind, apd this
shyness in time becomes so strong as not to
be overcome. It might seem strange, but we
are convinced if is the fact, that some men
are much more afraid of women than women
are of men, apd fearing “to break the ice”
is a fruitful cause of old bachelorism. Grad
ually age grows upon him, chalk stones galh:
er in his knuckles, gout seizes hold of his
toes; served by menials, he is a stranger to
the soft and careful hand of affection ; and
he goes to the grave, his death not only un,
lamented but absolutely rej iced over by his
heir-at-law. A wall of but six inches thick
has aD this time divided these two people.—
Society does not alldw them even a chink,
which, like Pyrames and Thisbe, (hey might
whisper through, although by nature. vhey
might have been formed to make a happy
couple, ipstead of'two miserable units.
Killed more than his Ma^.t—You have
heard of Dr. Thompson, the waggish propri
etor ol the Atlanta Hotel, in Atlanta, in this
State. Well, once upon a time, two gentle;
men, (the one decidedly under the influence
of spiritual presence, and the other approxi
mating the same condition,) stopped at tAa
Doctor’s hotel. In consequence of »orqe e* :
traordinary manifestations on the part of lt)e
“tightest” gent, he soon found himself “nigh
unto a ijiuSs” with the Doctor. His friend,
boweyer, canted him off before matters had
reached a crisis. After slowing him away,
the friend returned, and accosting the'proprU
etor, said very emphatically, “Sir. you have
beep treading pn dangerous ground; that
iqan is not to be Iri/led with, sir; do you
know, sir, that he has killed his man, sir 7”
“Killed his man!" says Thompson, with a
voice tike a thunder clap, and a most intense
expression of contempt upon bis pfiiz, “Byt
Jove I ?ir let me infortp yoq that I have prac
ticed medicine for twenty years, and you
musn’t attempt to frighten me with a chap
who has oqly [tilled his man. Bah I sjr, it
won't begin to do. - ’ The fellow “collapsed,”
and forthwith settled his bilk
$ neighbor of purs, pot long since, intro
duced to hjc sop, about six years of age, a
little brother, who had just arrived in this
.world, Which all-agree ip abusing, but none
like to part with, even in exchange for abet
ter. The boy looked at bis infant brother
with some perplexity, and then raising hi
eyes to his father, infjujred—“ VVhere did
you gel it ?7? “ Bought it, my son,” ex
claiming the father, with a laudable gravity.
4gain tlie boy looked at lj]e baby, and after
a ‘‘abort lime, sagaciously asked, “ Why
didn’t you pjok out"a white one, father t"