Term* off Publication. I*flE TIOGA COUNTY AGITATOR w pob. hodowery and flrailedlo sab gcribenM Abe Dol lar pefkntratn ;tmdnably tn Saranre. 'ftis intend ed to aotily?«T¥ty-subscriber wbcu^ for. which he has paid shall have expired, hy the stamp —»Tlme Oat,” on the margin of paper. Tl® paper will then be slopped until a farther*®' mitUnce be received. By this arrangement- no ®ai> can be brought in debt to the printer. . . . . Tex Agitator is the Official Taper of‘the Conn ty, with a large and steadily increasing circulation reaching into nearly* every neighborhood in the .County. Jt is sent free of postage tpany^Tpsl,office within the county limits, and .to those living within the limits,hot whose mostcpnvenientpostpffice may be in an adjoining County. .. Business Cards, not exceeding 5 lines, paper in doded,s4per year. -i . TWENTY YEARS AGO . “Think oft, yobrethren of-ycmthful prime, It cometh not again—that golden time.” rre wandered to the Tillage, Tom, Tve At "beneath-ihe ini, Upon the achooUiouse play ground—that sheltered you .and me; . - . But none were there to grectnae, Tom, and few werelefl to know, That played with ua upon the grass Juat twenty years ago. The grass is jnit os green, Tom, bare footed boys at play, Were sporting Just mwo did, then, spirit* Just as gay ' i But the master sleeps npon„the hfll, which coated o’er with snow, Afforded us a sliding place just twenty years ago. The oldacfaool house U altered some, the benches are replaced By new-ones, (Tory like the same our' pen knives had defaced:) But the same old bricks wore in the wall, the bell swings to and fro— It’s music just the same, dear Tom, *twas twenty yean ago Tbe boyi were playing some old game beneath the same old tree, I do forget the name jest now, (you’ro played the same with On tfra* same spot) ’two* played with feoive* by throwing so and so— The loser had a task to do there twenty years agot The river running just as still, the willows bn its side Are larger than they were, Tom, the stream appears less wide: Bat the grape vine swing is rained now where once we played the beau, And swung oar sweethearts, pretty girls, just twenty years ago. The spring that babbled near'tbe blit close by the spreading beech. Is very low; *twas once so high that we could almost reach— And kneeling down to get a drink, dear Tom, I started so— To see how mach that 1 am changed, since twenty years ago. Near by the spring upon the elm, yon know 1 cat your name; Your sweethearts Just beneath It, Tom, and yon did mine the Some heartless-wretch had peeled the bark, ’twaa dying snre but slow. Just as the one whose was cut died Cwentyywaago. - Uy lids have long been dry, Tom, bnt tears came in my eyes, 1 thought of her be Wvod so well, those early broken ties. I visited the church yard and took some flbwcra to strew Upon the graves of those wc loved some twenty, years ago. Some are in the church-yard laid, some sleep beneath the sea, And none are left of our old class excepting you and me. And when onr time shall come, Tom; and we are called to go, I hope they’ll Jay os where we played Just twenty yean ago! HEAP GOALS OF FIRE. “Therefore If thine enemy hanger, feed him, if he thirst, give him drink; for la so doing thou shall heap coals of firo on hi* head.”—Romans, 2O. "Humph! they needn’t think they are so much belter than we are !” exclaimed Annie Montague. “I hate the whole tribe; and I don’t care what they do,” answered Eliza Moniague. "I suppose they think wa shall feel badly because they did not invite us to their grand parly.” “They gave the parly on purpose to ‘cut’ us. Who cares for them 1" "Sure enough; I don’t for one.” "Yes you do,” interposed Mr. Montague, who sat at the fire reading the evening paper. "I'm sure I don’t, father,” replied Annie with a toss of the head. “Why are you so petulant and angry thenl”—asked Mr. Montague, with a smile at the manifest inconsistency of his daughter. “I am not. "wiry stiouia tue angry wiin them?” ) “I don’t know why you should be ; only that you are.” “How absurd, father.” “Very absurd, but I am sure the Capulct family do not feel any more hardly towards us itjan you towards them.” “I think the Capuletsare mean, contempti ble people; I am sure I do not care a straw about them,” answered Annie, rather “worked” to find that she had betrayed the feeling of enmity she was anxious to conceal. “You know they are the nabobs of the street; that they are the leaders of fashion, and you girls think a great deal of such Ihings.” “I thirf|k we are quite as respectable as they are.’’ “So do 1 ; but you know the Capulets are people who receive the homage of the world, and to be out with them is almost equivalent to being out with society,” “I can’t see why they should “cut” us. We have done nothing to offend.” “Perhaps you have ; I met Capulet in the street the other day, and he would not speak to me, though you know; I used to do all his law business.” “I don’t understand it, father.” “Haven’t you said something about them that you ought not to have said 1” “I am sure I have not.” “Well, we have this consciousness, that we have done nothing to injure them, and if they choose to slight us, or even to ill-treat us, it need not be our fault. “But it was so mean, after, we had been intimate so long, to pot such a public insult on us ?” replied Eliza, with spirit. “I wish 1 had the means ol paying them off!” “No, no, child ; try to cherish a Christian spirit Eliza. “Love your enemies.” ‘fl am sure I cannot love the Capulets, after what they have .done. They have already set the whole neighborhood to talking about us.” “No matter for that.” “After we have done so much for them loo!” \ “What have we done I - ’ ' “Didn’t mother watch with Mrs. Capulet when she had the typhus fever ? Didn’t Eliza and I watch with her tool” “Those are simple neighborly offices, that should not be regarded with 100 much compla cency. I dare say they have rendered us similar offices a hundred limes.’’ “They never watched with us,” “We have bad no occasion for their servi ces in that capacity, tf we had, I doubt not they would have been kind and neigh borly," “I don't believe it.” ’ . “I saw Tom Capulet in the omnibus to day ; —he would hardly nod at me,” added Annie. One might suppose from her downcastloob that there was a Romeo and Juliet in the case, and that “the course of true love never did run smooth,” It must be confessed that Toni Capulet was exceedingly good-looking, and Annie would not have been much to blame if she bad consented to play Juliet to his Romeo. ■ t Mr. Montague u lawyer residing in fHE AGITATOR. •*f - * •■■S i-M i n Zlefcbhi* to tije Sfftewfoii of ttje&waofJFm&om anatfce Samir of mnlttm 3Btfom Yolu %:: , one of the suburban towns, but a few miles fr6m 'As rriay have been inferred Tromhitfcoftveraatibn with his'"daughters, he 'was dnr honest and just man, which may account for his being no better off in the pos session of-the goods of this world. The income of his profession enabled him to live in g6bd style, and to associate with the first families in B——, which, everybody knows, is rather an aristocratic place. Holley street was the “West End” of the place, and Montagee nnd[ Copulet lived in ap petite ends of Holley street. It is true, the mansion of the former .could not vie in state liness and elegance with that euis In tkw' violnUjt. owoopi lU* Gapulels 1 Won’t it be grand! We shall pay them off ! in their own coin, and teach them that they cifßnol insult us with im punity.” “I have no desire to pay them off in their own coin ; so I can permit no such parly as you mention,” replied Mr. Moniague With mild firmness. “Only thick how they have treated us, father.” “That is no reason why you should treat them badly.” Both of the young ladies teased hina for the next week tocarry out their grand idea ; but he persisted in living up to his Christian views of the matter. Week after week and month after month passed away and still there was no indications of a reconciliation. With the single excep tion of Mr. Montague, who invariably treated the Capulets with courteous respect when ho met any of them, none of the parties recog nized each other. The Capulets could afford to be exceedingly independent, and they were so to the .utmost oT their capacity. “I got a letter,” said Mr. Montague, one day, when he returned home much earlier than usual. “From Mr. Capulet father T” asked Annie who, for some reason or other, was more de sirous than the rest of the family lor a recon ciliation. “No, Annie. It is from my uncle’s at torney.” “Uncle Ruel ?” “Yes.” “He lives inNew Orleans; an ugly old bachelor, I have been told,” replied Eliza, who had not much respect for old bachelors. “He did live in New Orleans; he is dead now.” * ‘| “Dead?” “Yes; and ibis teller informs me that I am bis sole heir.” Both of the young ladies uttered an ex clamation of delighted surprise. The dead relative was no part of their troubles. They were suddenly made richer than even the Capulels. They had never seen Uncle Ruei, but report said, and their father, acknowl edged, that be was a mean and parsimonious to the last degree. He had been at variance with bis family, especially with Mr. Mon tague, the lawyer with whom he,had quat reled thirty years before, and had never per mitted any of them to address him. He was even so morose as to return all letters, declar ing that all his friends- wanted of him was his money. ■ - “I am so glad, father!” exclaimed Eliza, unable tocontrol her emotions. “Glad of what 1 That your uncle is dead!” - - - “No, father; that we are rich.” “Riches are a snare, my child.” “Wo can come up with the Capulets, now,” added Eliza, heedless of her father’s moral reflections. “Listen to me, girls. Uncle Reed’s attor ney bus sent me a copy of the will, and a\ statement of the reasons that induced hintlo< make me-bis heir.” - . -r: - -“Wasn’t it-strange that he -did so 1' I thought he wasSlways very bitter towards \*ou,” said Annie. , iT -q . WILLSBOROUCtH, TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING. JULY i\ 1857. . „“Ha was, very biller indeed. More than ibirty years ago, when I first began to prac tise law, he wished me to undertake a case for. him. His purpose was to wrong a poor but honest man, and I refused to act for him ; But it was'of use to remonstrate* with him. Shortly afterwards he deprived me ef-the patronage of my best client, by a false rep. resenfation, arid then boasted to my face of iwhal he had done.' I simply told bitri that I forgave him the wrong he had done roe, which only made him the more bitter towards me.” “What a terrible man he was !” exclaimed Annie.” “He was a strange person. Within six months I was appointed Administrator of an estate against which he held a large claim in the form of a promissory note, not secured by mortgage or otherwise. By some neglect on the part of Uncle ftuel, the note was out lawed a day or two before the death of the promissor, which rendered it of no value in law. I knew, however that it was a just debt, though I suppose I had no legal right to pay i'. The heirs were allopposed to paying it at first, because they hated Uncle Ruel.” “What did you do, father?” asked Annie, much excited by tbe narration. “He would not have got it out of me,” added Eliza. “I advised the heirs to pay it. It required a great deal of persuasion on my part; but they were fair and just men, in the main, and if the claim had been held by any other per son than Uncle Ruel, (bey would have wished it paid. They consented at last. In the meantime, Uncle Ruel was terribly ex cited. He felt that the money was lost, and that at (he time it would have been a large sum for him to lose. He came to my office and demanded payment. I inlormed him that I had no authority as yet to pay it, but that I would do the best 1 could for him. He evidently distrusted me. He did not think it was possible for me to do justly by him after the injury he bad dona me, so he stormed and raved, called me many hard names—a cheat and a s windier. When 1 went to pay him, some weeks later, he was astonished, for he had given up the moneyas lost. . He stammered an ungracious apology for his ill-treatment of me, received his money, and closed his heart against me as firmly as ever.” “What a monster!” “I expected that what I had done would conquer him.' It did'not, 1 He''would -not speak to me, even then.” ; -wi™, „ j “No, Eliza. I relumed good for evil, and though his pride would not let him be just to me, my course produced its proper effect. The letter I have just received, informs me that he expiated his injustice by thirty years of remorse. You can read the letter at your leisure. It was dictated on the death-bed of the deceased. He says he never could banish the affair from his mind; and now he makes me his heir, as a kind of atonement for his coldness and ingratitude. The ‘coals of fire’ have smouldered for thirty years, and blazed at last on his death-bed.” The papers were read aloud by Annie, who was deeply impressed by their contents. A few months after, Mr. Montague came into full possession of the estate, and was one of the wealthiest man in B . The world delights to honor those upon whom fortune smiles, and Mr. Montague, all at once found himself ono of the most dis tinguished men in the country. People found out that be bad abilities of the first order, and that he would become one of the greatest statesmen in the land ; so they elected him to Congress. ■ Just before bis departure for Washington, his daughters insisted upon having a great parly. The invitation list was made out and Mr. Montague carefully examined it to see that no names were omitted. “Put down Mr. Capulet and family,” said he, as he handed the list back to Eliza. “Mr. Capulet 1” “Yes, Eliza.” “What! after they have so long and so carefully ‘cut’ us I" exclaimed Eliza, her cheek reddening with indignation. “If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink ; for in so doing thou shall heap coals of fire upon his head,” re plied Mr. Montague.' Annie came to her father’s aid, and thought it would be the best way to invite them; though of course they would not come. But they did come, and were as cordial as though no break in their intimacy had ever occurred. Tom Capulet flirted with Annie all the*evening, and before the small hours had begun to strike, he was playing Romeo, (Capulet though he’was) in real earnest. And she was a very complacent Juliet. The next day, the Capulets called en masie upon the Montagues. ' -ft' “Sir,” said Mr. Qapulet, ‘‘wo. feel that some apology is due fur the treatment you and your family have received at our hands. We were.so astonished and chagrined when we received your unexpected invitation, that wo knew not what to do. M'e all felt ex ceedingly cheap. " ' Mr. Montague smiled, and Mr. Capulet pro ceeded. - “This unhappy difference has certainly existed long enough.” “I should say -that it bad; though up to the present time, 1 have, been unable to ascer tain the cause of it.” “Indeed I I supposed the cause was clear enough.- What’Miss Annie said- concerning Mrs. Capulet .’’ “I I” exclaimed Annie. '“Did you not declare that she had been guilty of an indiscretion?’..- - “THE AGITATION OP THOUGHT IS THE BEGINNING OF WISDOM.” “Never! I never even hinted any such thing.” _ ' “Mary, who lived with you, said she heard you say it, * “Is it possible, Mr. Capulel, that you have taken tbe word of an ignorant and prejudiced girl to such an extent,” “It came to us -like a true story,” contin ued Mr. Capulet, much disturbed. “We discharged Mary for stealing,” added Mrs. Montague. “Is it possible?” “Don’t you remember, mother, she threat ened to be revenged ?” • I do.” “It would have been proper for yon to have given us a chance to be heard in our own defence, said Mr. Montague. “Can you forgive us ?” “Freely, sir,” “We have probably suffered more than you have; for I have all the time had some doubt about the truth of the story,: and I confess I never was so worked up as when your invitation came. It was returning good for evil. It was ‘coals of fire’ to us. You have conquered me.” The Montagues and Capulels have contin ued on the best terms up to the present writing; and we are happy to inform the reader that the tragic fate of Romeo and Juliet was not in store for our lovers, for in due time they were married. The Effects of Imagination, The Philadelphia North American relates an amusing instance of the powers of imagi nation. A salesman employed in a large jobbing house in Market street, like Paul’s es pecial pet, young Timothy, has “often infir mities,” and abominable qualms—or perhaps, like a noted clergyman, has a complaint of the throat—which he assuages with a morn ing dram of Cogninc, a supply of which he kept in a snug place, easy of access. It hap pened, however, that a porter named Bill was afflicted by the same infirmities, and clandes tinely drew upon the clerk’s medical beverage to such an extent as to seriously annoy him. The salesman determined to make Bill the victim of a trick, and for this purpose re moved the brandy, and substituted in jts place about a quart of very weak whiskey and water, which was colored with burnt sugar.— This the porter, at two visits, absorbed the whole of, evidently disappointed in its quality. Shortly -a&ar-ltia-aaU»smaa-pt«l«ndpd to diScover the loss, and with a countenance upon which was depicted an expression of the greatest alarm, he inquired, “who has been taking my bottle of rat poison'!” “What rat poison!” asked all, the porter Bill among the number. “Why the bottle of whiskey and arsenic under the counter here.” “Had that bottle any arsenic in it 7” asked Bill, his face turning ghastly pale, and his knees knocking together with mortal fear. “Had it T I should think it had. There was arse nic enough there to kill twenty men I” “I— don’t—know—anyth’ng—about—it—sir,’’- said Bill, in a manner which showed very plainly that he did, as he rushed precipitately down into the cellar. When there he was seized with a fit of vomiting, accompanied by frightful pains, so violent that the clerks were alarmed, and summoned a physician, think ing that the man must have been poisoned in earnest. It was an hour before the doctor came, he found the man as near death, with all the symptoms of poisoning by arsenic, as though he had actually taken poison in ah over dose. The truth of the matter was then told to the victimized portet, and of course bis recovery wse as rapid as the suddenness of the attack; but the doctor confidently ex pressed bis belief that the man would have died, purely from the effects of his imagina tion, with all the horrible sensations of a death by corrosive poispn. , The Faculty may make the most of the above, or only notice it by a very dignified “Humph I”—but we have the documents, and know it to be an authentic case of self decep tion. Letting Down tue Aristocracy. —The elegant Miss Mason, whose father bad made a splendid fortune as an enterprising draper and tailor, appeared at a magnificent enter tainment, in royal apparel. With that fastid ious exclusiveness for which the latest comers into fashionable circles are the most remark able, she refused various offers of introduc tion, as she did not wish to extend the num ber of her acquaintances, “her friends were few and very select.” The beautiful Miss Taylor, radiant with good nalured smiles, and once well acquaint ed with Miss Mason when they went to the public school in William Street together, no ticed the hauteur of her ancient friend, yvho was determined not to recognize one who would only remind her of her former low es tate. But Miss Taylor, tho rogue, as clever as she was pretty, determined to bring her up with a short turn,, and not submit to being snubbed by one whose ancestral association was no better than her own. Watching her chance, when the haughty young lady was in the midst of her set, Miss Taylor walked up and with smiles of winning:' sweetness, re marked t “I have been thinking, my dear Miss Ma son, that we ought to exchange names;” “Why, indeed!” “Because my name is Taylor, and my father is a mason, and your, name is Mason, but your father was a. tailor.” / , Thera, was a scene then, but there was no help for-it. The little . Miss Taylor had the pleasure of saying a very cute thing, which was soon, repeated in the ears or a doaon cir cles, and the wits wished to sea* her, hut the proud Miss Meson bit her. lip iu silence. I'VE WEPT. Oh, often In the client night whilst all around me slept, Whentho’ts came throning thick anWell, what explanation can you make?’’ “Why, the fact is, sir, my physician advi ses me to try a little each day as a tonic, and not wishing to stop at the various places where the beverage is retailed, I.concluded to have a barrel taken to my room.” I j “Indeed. And have you derived apy ben efit from the use of it 7” i “Ah, yes, sir. When the barrel was first taken to my room, two days since, I could scarcely lift it. Ndw I can carry it with the greatest ease.” , We believe the witty student was dis charged without special reprimand. I A Quaker Woman’s Sermon. —“Mjf Dear triends : There are three things 1 very much wonder at. The first is, that children should be so foolish as to throw up stones, clubs and brickbats into fruit trees, to knock down fruit; if they let it alone it would fal|l itself. The second is, that men should be so foolish, and even so wicked, as 10 go to wnjr and kill each other; if they are let they woqld die themselves. And the third and last thing which i wonder at is, that young men should bo so unwise as to go after the young women ; if they would stay at home, the young women would come after them." I A few days since, one of our learned coun sels deemed it necessary to shake the les'i mony of a Mr. Builcrworth, by impugning bis veracity. The witness being called to the stand, the lawyer commenced— j “Do you know Mr, Butterworth 1” i “Yes.” - - - . I “What is Butterworth 7” ’ “Two and ten pence a pound, although I have os high as—.” i “That will do, sir. You can take your seat.” The Home Journal makes the following report of a stanza as pathetically sung' by-a prima donna at a New York concert." Those familiar with the .song of the “Old Arm Chair,” as sung by Russell, may slight resemblance: Hi lo hove it, hi la-bove it And who op sha hill ds-hsre TO.IIOO chi.hi.hidc roe for to-hoving That o-ho-ho)d a-harm cha-hsir. ■ - ' “Jimmy, ate your folks all well?”. “Yes., ma’am, all but Sally Ann." . , “What’s the matteis with her?” - * “O, nothin* particular—-only she had the hooping cough-once, and she hainl gotover it.-.-The-cough-ain’t any account now, hut site has lho■Aoop^le^pt■|l^’ , j- Advertisements will be charged 81 per square of fourteen Hoes, for one, or three insertions, and 25 cents for every subsequent Insertion. 'All advertise oienU of less than fourteen lines considered as % sqoaie, The following rates will b« charged fi»r Quarterly*Half-Yearly and Yearly advertising;— ■4 J. I .> 8 months. 6 months. 18 tno*a 1 Square, (14 lines,) . 82 50 84 50 86 00 2 Squires,. . . - .4 00 600 BOd i column, .... 1000 1500 2000 I column 18 00 30 00 40 00 All advertisements not having tbo number of in sertions marked upon them, will be kept in ami! or dered oat. and charged accordingly. Fosters, Handbills, Bill,and Letter Headland all kinds of Jobbing done in country establishments, executed neatly and promptly. Justices*, Consta bles* and other BLANKS, constantly on hand and printed (o order. NO. 49. ©ntr CotrrsponDftwr. For The ApUtor. Fbisnd Cobb ; For the post few weeks tbo all-absorbing topic has been the disposal of the Minesota land grants by on extra session of the Legislature ; and so intense has been the public feeling, that it has pervaded all classes of community, and lor the lime being all other topics have sunk iota insignificance. The “comet” was nowhere, and “town sites” and “real estates” were not even dreamed of. But, as I remarked before, “the Rubicon .it passed,” the battle is over, and Minesota “is herself again.” By the bye, this same Minesota deserves 10 be immortnlized in the annals of fame, for her successful resistance to the series of dan* gers which have beset her during the past few months. First in the list was the diaboli cal attempt (by a certain ex-Governor, who is a great Gormaa-dizer) to inflict “capital punishment by decapitation,” and in bis idof airy to offer up the devoted bead to a certain ‘•St. Peter” to whom he is said to “bow down and worship.” But the afflicted people (as in times of old) flew to their patron saint (who is called Paul) for protection. Now this St Paul has great influence with the “powers that be,” so be stretched forth his politico-auriferous arms towards Washington, and cried in a loud voice, “Let not this evil come upon my people,” and straightway they received absolution. Scarcely bad this danger passed from the seemingly devoted Territory, ere came the dread cry of “Indian war” wherein thirty thousand Sioux Indians were to massacre all the people therein, and, so frighten the “rest of mankind” that none should dare again Jo serfdot within her borders. But, no sooner did this fierce war cry reach the ears of St. Paul j than one of his disciples called “Timo thy,” issued from the Time's office such a peal of military thunder, as to so nearly an nihilate the army of the Sioux, that when the U. S. troops marched from fort Snelling to give battle, the enemy could no where be found ; ao (after driving three or four old squaws out of a sugar bush) the troops were ordered back to quarters, and thus ended the great war—but the country was again saved. Yet, even while the echo of the “war cry” was still heard in the distance, came the “nn kindest cut of oil,” viz ; the disposition of the land grants. Now, these land grants are supposed to be portions of the public car cass, cut off by Congress to feed the political jackals who ever hang in the rear of the Govermental caravan—and to prevent their mcessant howling, .Congress occasionally throws them a precious morsel from the pub lic stores. These animals are to be found prowling round the camps of all parlies, but mostly about the parly to whom for the time being belong the spoils. And, when some thing like a year ago, Congress cut a piece from Wisconsin to feed them, there was a great scrabble, snarling and fighting, to the serious annoyance nnd permanent injury to the vital interests of said State. The morsel was not of sufficient magnitude to satisfy the cravings of the whole pack, so they set up a howl more hideous than before, and pressed hard on the heels of the keepers of the pub lic crib, showing their white, long rows of chattering teeth yet reeking with the juicy morsel they had been devouring. Congress saw the danger and to avert it cut hastily from the tender carcass of Minesota ao enor mous piece, and threw in their midst. Then came the mighty scrabble of the voracious and half starved legion. All of the species were in motion. They came from the -east, west, north and south, and even the “old Keystone” was here represented. But Mine sota saw her danger, and fearing in the gene ral melee, total destruction, rallied to the res cue. She gathered her mighty warriors and strong men and entrenched them in her Leg islative Halls, within the precincts of beran cient patron, St Paul. Soon they were sur rounded by the mighty hosts of their beseig ers, who sought to intimidate by threatening to devour all who should stand between them and the promised repast, Bui the brave lit tle hand still 'kept to their post and after many days being short of supplies they were con strained to lake rations from the stores they were guarding from the enemy. This was a fatal mistake (for outsiders) for they rolled it as a sweet morsel under ibeir longues, and' when they had feasted long, resolved to ap propriate what was left to their own exclusiva use now and forever, not allowing even the crumbs to be picked from under their tabla by the famished multitude. When this edict was proclaimed in the land there-was great wailing, and soon the beseiging hosts .began to leave; first by ones and twos and soon- by legions, till ere long the city was.nearly de serted and peace was again proclaimed in the land v •••-'/- , - The election; of delegates for a convention to form a State Constitution for Minesota pre paratory to her admission into the Unipn, is to take place soon.- Each party claims to be sure of success, but -what the result will be I am not prepared-to predict. The weather has been.delightful for a law weeks post-, and all kinds of vegetation may be said to be in a flourishing condiiion.'and the coming harvest from present indications wilt undoubledty be a.good -one. But lest ( weary the patience of yourself and resdersl will' close. I expect to start on the 4th inat on an exploring expedition some 100 miles in the in’eriorv and should anything present it. self worthy of note you may hear from me again. In the mean time I remain * ~[f; Yobfs tfulyr -t». y. E. A: man badasign up,'•‘Cheap ladies’ shoes for sate here. He fotind that not a lady en leted bis store.' ■ No-wohder—tbe.tadies don’t like to lie called cheap. hardear; e r ■-> Bates of Advertising. Hudson, Wrs., June 3d 1857.