, . . -----n D MI I-Dil 4141 . :::...::.:,,... . • , ... ... . ~,, • • , 'E .H• . , . :r1 - . AMMII F 7 li. . . - -, • :,... 1 1 , A: . tSf.,a . f, ,t4.,`..t.,.... , -. N.0tAv,1 4 - ,,, . , a , T a.. larltlb .r A : stag ltt liltatrttil A VOLUME X. Vortical. What is a Yvarl AVhat n year? "fie but a wave On life's (lurk rolling strenta, Which is so quickly gone thut ;re Account it but a dream, 'Tie but u single earnest throb Of time's old irou heart, Which tircl e • rm, and strung en u hen It first with life did -tort. Whitt Is a year? "ri: but a 'urn Of time's old brazen whnol Or but n pnge upon the hook Which time most :4hortly 'Tis but a step upon the rood Which we nu-t travel e'er. A fen• more stop: and we quill walk Lifh's wear; road no more. What. is n cent? butt hrentli Vrotu Old ItoFt Hit 1.1..1%11. AP ru,hing On Ward n' •r the earth, We It nr his wt arc menu. "'Pin like the bat Lle on the wave, Or ilew upon the Inwn— An trnevient iv the mist of morn Beneath the Pinitineee What. is n year? "fis but a type Of life's oft ehangin,g scene, 'Youth's happy morn comes gaily on With hill, and valleys green ; Next sitintner*:! prime succeeds the spring Autumn with a tear. 'When conies old Winter—death, and all Itinst find, i) level here. Song for the New Year. MIME "A linppy Nor Year fur the loved ones at home A hnppv New Tear for the luvc•l ones at home." 1. the eheriest wish of toy spirit to. day, As around the bright hearth-stone together we corm• To gladden the hours es they hasten away, Oh! joyful the time when am loveliest song . nejUlees tho heart with its echoing I 'beer, And we aro the merriest hnppie-t throng That ever delighted to bail the New Year. rth 1 my heart-wish shall be, wheresoever I roam, " A happy New Year for the Wed ones at home!" But partings will come to the children of earth, And tbc eye be moistened with loony a teat, Am one bids adieu to the phtec of his blab, With its beautiful scones and loved ones on dear! And sadly that sorrow my spirit has known, For I look for those loved ones, but they arc not her Tot in spirit I'm with them, and gladly I own Their influence with every 'morning NOV Year. And my heart-wish shall, be. wheresoever I roam, " A happy New Year fur the loved onea at loom!" The cares of life's Journey my pathway may throng nark shad we of gloom o'er my spirit may steal, But nrm'ry shall breathe on my sadness a song, The sunlight of glory again to reveal ? Or if zephyrs o'er breathe on the ocean of life, And never awaken its billowy foam, Or flow'rs always gladden the field of strife, I e'er shall remember the loved ones at home, For my beurt.-wi•h shall be, wheresoever I roam. A hippy New Year for the loved ones at home!" .31 Ibo3b 6torg ioifeith --- fbiUiißd, I promised William Hepburn° to tell him how I came to be married, and, as it was rather an odd way, perhaps it will limuse the public : so here it goes ! My name is Thomas Petition Ste vens ; I was born and • bred in Connecticut, taught my letters, and the "three Rs, Readin', Ititin', and Rithmetic" in a district school. house ; learned Latin, Greek. and algebra of old Parson Field ; and grew tobat:co enough on my father's farm, before I was twenty, to help me squeeze through the college course at old Yak, There I found myself one Commencement day, having delivered the third oration to a blooming audience in the galleries, and a grim crowd below, the happy posSessor of a sheep sltin, a blue ribbon, a wooden spoon, two dol lars and fifty-six cents, and two suits of clothes, one very shabby, and one pie-new. " The, world was .all before me where to choose," as it says in the primer ; and I decided to Co up into Colebrook, and see if my maternal uncle. Seth Downes, Wanted a man to help get in his rowan. I paid two dollars and fifty cents to get there, and landed on the door-step with nothing but my own personal attractions to commend me. However, Uncle Downes was as glad to see me as if I had six dollars instead of six cents in my left band waistcoat pocket, and hired me for the late haying s on the spot, and I let up a singing -school in the red school.bouso the next Sunday niglit: When the haying was over, .I staid a few weeks to see what I could' turn my head to, and Uncle Downes being on the schoelcOmmittee, through his influence I was Made principal of Colebrook Academy when the winter term began, and having a very ' pretty set of girl's to teach, I- made myself and my services so acceptable to parents and guar dians, that I hold the place to this day, three years from then. One day last spring, I sa-en the stoop of lin . OeDownes houae, thinking of nothing in a very PUBLISED WEEKLY BY HAINES & DIEFENDERFER AT ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS PER ANNUM. resolute way, with discursive seasons of listen ing I% a brown thrush that was hid in some neighboring tree, thence giving out all manner of comic illustrations of.every other bird's inn ' Ideal powers ; hitting off, with gay sarcasm, the robin, oriole, and whippoorwill ; even giving the faint peep of a dew-wet chicken lost in the grass, the warning cry of a hawk, or the love lorn thrill of a song-sparrow, with here and there a pewit, blackbird, or the liquid frolic of a bobolink's song. mimicked, exaggerated, and interspersed with his own delirious warble, full of spring and its sweet exultation. 1 was lapsing out of the thrush's concert into noth ingness again, when a quick, light patter, like a hailstorm coming down stairs, woke me up, and at any elbow stood the light shape of Lizzy Downes. my special cousin, and a peculiar bit of womanhood as one might see in a life-time. " Get up 'ram !" quoth the green sun-bonnet,— '• I want you to take a walk with me." I was rather in a quiet state just then, but who ever thought of resisting that clear voice, with such a decisive tone and flawless ring? " Where are you going, Lizzy ?" said I after we had travelled silently and swiftly, like people in fairy stories, half through Uncle Downe's farm. "Oh !" said she, recollecting herself, or rather me, " I'm going to Asa Burt's lot, after some columbine plants, and you may carry the basket." " Gracious princess !" retorted I, •• accept my devoirs, and put your foot upon my neck, if it please you." "It dosen't," said the princess ; " I only want you to behave like a man, and not wait next-time for a lady's re quest, before you offer to help her." At this whistled slightly, and rubbed my hands ; Lizzy had a way of Speaking truth that was—well— plain ! but she knew it, and turned her rosy face round to me with the divinest smile of in telligenceand sweetness. " Don't mind it, Tom, it is alk.for your good, and you can't get angry with me; you know." Of course I couldn't, such a face as that was talismanic ; besides, she was tuy cousin ; and it is a singu lar fact in the natural history of man, that though there are no people on earth one gets so entirely and utterly disgusted and out of tem per with as disagreeable and intrusive cousins, ' it is yet quite out of the nature of things to be disturbed by a young, pretty, smiling cousin, however saucy. It demonstrates most convinc ingly the old Scotch proverb, " Bluid's thicker than water." All the affinities of ancestry, all the tender associations of childhood, all the nameless sympathies that are only existent be tween relatives, spring up to harmonize con ; and our blood beats more warmly toward its severed tide in the pulse of a relation—ex cept, as I said before, the disagreeable ones.— So I not only refrained from getting vexed at Lizzy's reproof, but submitted with a sweet humility, and would have kissed the rod, had it been permitted or required. " Do you hear that. thrush, Tom 7" broke in the lady, upon my meditation. " Yes, ma'am, I've been listening to it this hour, from the east stoop." " What a lazy creature you are ! spending a whole hour in mortal idleness, this lovely day." " Not a bit of it, mademoiselle ; my meditations in that stoop were of the most useful character ; nothing less than a skillful analysis (tnental, of course,) of the vibratory power of air, and its probable capabilities in mechanics:" "Oh ! Tom ! Tom ! can't you let school-mastering alone, on Saturdays? and such a celeStial Saturday as this ; look there, if you want a better meditation than your analysis." . . I did look up through the dim, gray branche's of the wood we were skirting, and there, on the leafless bough of a tall hickory tree, sat two wild pigeons, eyeing us with soft, shy glances, stooping their graceful, shining necks, an 4 drawing them up again, with a native pride, not unlike that of my companion, though I acquit her of being anything dovelike ! A few steps on the dead leaves startled the pretty creatures from their perch, the dull blue plumes shot suddenly in white, and black, and gray, and slowly they lit, some few rods off, on a fir tree; while we went on our way. • ".Do you know, Tom," said Lizzy, " I have a theory about birds, and people. I think every ono is like some bird. Could you guess, now, who a wood-pigeon always makes me think of ?" " I know who has that same way of drawing up her head, Miss Lizzy ; no other than your fair self." " Nonsense ! I am no more like that pigeon than I am like a turkey ; nor as much, for I can gobble inimitably, to the intense rage of all the turkeys in our barn yard. No, indeed, I am such more . like an oriole; look at that one, how it dashes aslant the elm boughs, and make a descent into the hollow below, like a flake of fire ; that's the way I drop into our sewing societies hero, and make the old ladies' hair stand on end with my absurdities. No ! if you do not recognize our Colebrook wood-pigeon, I shall not help you." " Then I shall never know," rejoined I, in a tone of mock lamentation. "Ch ! yes you'll discover for yourself, some time," laughed Lizzy, quietly climbing a fence between the Allentown, Pa., January"; 1856. home-farm and Uncle Asa's lot. " Why, Lizzy, you are too quick ! I was just offering to help you, and you are over." " I never will have any help, sir, over a fence ; what is the use of being a country girl, if you cannot cross a fence without help 7" " Not ;such, indeed, in this New England, where every acre field is fenced ; but, Lizzy, I k ! here are columbines enough for you." As T spoke, we had reached the centre of the little meadoW through which crept a slow, bright stream, keeping the grass about it green er than the sea, and set thick with the blue violets and golden cowslips ; while on the drier banks of moss and turf that skirted the marshy borders of the brook, hundreds of sunny ad ders'-tongues flaunted their yellow turbans, all dropped with garnet, in the spring -winds, and still further back, among budded lupines and sweet fern, myriads of anemones, fair and frail, bent languidly to the warm breath of the south, • seeming just ready, so renal were their shapes, to take flight from their rest upon earth. On the inner edge of the meadow a great gray rock abutted from the hill-side right on the green sward ; about its base clustered a quaint crowd of brown flowered trilliums, - and the delicate straw-bellS of May--while on its ledges, from every crack and shelf where a grain of earth could harbor, sprung innumera ble columbines of the brightest scarlet and gold, swaying, and dancing ; and tossing their jewelled heads like veritable fairy princesses, so full of laughter and delight, that you mailed involuntarily to hear the gay peal of musical mirth from their tiny bells, and fancied, on each new Sigh of the fragrant air, n fir-off echo from their tinkling in some distant field. • Here my task began, and in a few minutes Lizzy's basket was filled to the brim with roots, and her hands with the blossoms—fit representa tives of her gay, brilliant, graceful self, as she stood poised on the ledge of the rock—her sun bonnet hanging by one string, her face burning with the warm flush of youth and health, her blue eyes glowing deeply in the sun-light, and her soft chestnut hair coiling in lus trous rings about her throat, lifted by the light wind, and melted to living gold wherever a sunbeam kissed it. I know I stood there with month and eyes wide open, like the sun•struck fool I was, " glowering" at Lizzy, who must have had sonic idea of my condition. for suddenly she be gan to descend the rock with free, firm steps, like a chamois (at least, I suppose so, ride Buf fon,) and I remembered afterward, so one does remember things seen and _sot perceived,'that there was a furtive smile glittering in the cor ner of her eye. As for me I was altogether in a maze, for the idea had suddenly taken pos session of me that I was in love, actually, in good earnest, in love with my cousin Lizzy ! Everything I had the presence of mind to recol lect, favored that idea. Did I not obey her like a bond-slave ? was I not always so lonely at Uncle Downe's when she went away ?--I admired her beauty more than that of any other woman. I admired her mind in its active, earnest, and noble development. Her character bad faults, to be sure, a need orsome small feminine virtues, but love would tench her those. Ati ! did she love me ? " Tom ! arc you asleep ?" pealed from the lips of which I had been dreaming. " N'—o, Lizzy, I was thinking," " Come a few steps further, : then, and I will find yoU a better place to think, for if you had eyes to see, there is a hor net's nest visible about a foot from your head, in that maple sapling, and you are in What the newspapers call a precarious situation." "So I am !" thought I to myself, adding aloud, " I am bound to follow you, mademoiselle ; only lead me." A brief walk over the green field brought us to its.upper corner, where the brook leaped and chattered over a stony bed, before it sunk itself to sleep in the silent channel below. Over this little' nook stood two great apple-trees, rosy with bloom, filling the air with their delicate and peculiar odor, and all murmurous with ho ney-bces, whose loving labor-song only height ened the cool silence of the shadow and the perfume ; while the little brook's laugh toned itself to a bobolink's voice, that echoed its mad mirth back again from the nearest fence post. " Sit down," said my liege lady, " It is 'too pleasant to• be not enjoyed." • I seated myself on a turf, still in a dream, while Lizzy bathed her hands and face in the cool water, and anchored her flowers to a stone on the edge of the stream to keep them from fading, she came back to me looking as fresh and lovely as the spray of pink apple-blossoms she held in her hand, and, seating herself beside me, began to talk about them. Her entirely unembarrassed air gave me a sort of shiver, but I listened. " Aren't these blossoms very pretty, Tom ? There is something speeinlly fascinating to rue in " apple-blows," as Uncle Asa calls them ; they are so refined, so gracious, so home-like ; withal softly and warmly tinted, and of such delicate scent, a like bitterness about it, just enough to make it piquant, not insipid a sort of common sense, do you under• stand? And then they are so full of promise for future winter firesides ; I, have a vision of a whole cider barrel and ten apple pies in the very cluster I hold ! but really I am serious about iheir beauty and expression, my flowers will do well to mate the wild pigeons, won't they ?" As she spoke an oriole flashed across the meadow, and her own comparison for herself made a like flash across my thoughts how beautiful, how piquant she was ! Thomas Peti- i tion Stevens, what a fool you were ! dyed in the grain ! I lumbered on to my knees before her, I don't remember how, and without one word of warning gasped out :—" Oh Lizzy ! I love you to distraction, can't you love me ?" Her face was absolutely pale with surprise, then a wild and flitting fear swept over it, I could see she thought me suddenly crazy, and the hot tears•began to fill my eyes. man that I was ! I suppose she saw, then, I was in earnest; for she blushed most beautifully, then bent her face down in both her little hands, and began—oh reader ! pity me !—ac tually to laugh :--laugh till the red blush spread to the very parting of her hair, colored I the slender throat, the small ear, and at length ! the white fingers. It was too much : I could ' not bear it : I became a man again. and some• thing very like a thrill of anger brought me to ! my feet. At this Lizzy looked up, her eyes full , of tears from long laughing, and her face radi- ' ant with dimpling mirth, and yet a sweet shad ow of pity and surprise upon it. She held out her hand to me-- how could I help taking it ? 1 or sitting quietly down beside her, very much in the state of a water cure patient after his first douche ? " Dear Tom," said she. in the I gentlest, laughter-wearied voice, " do forgive me, but really I could not help it what does nil you this morning ?" " Nothing but what TI I just told you," said T, in n aniky, dignified I manner, that was too much for Lizzy's serious- ! ness ; a• little shock of laughter shook her again, and brought out new tears, which she wiped away soberly. and clasping her hands over her handkerchief honked around at me with a grave face. through, which the comic air still flekered, and discomposed me. " Tom. von are very queer ; I cannot believe you really thought you were in earnest !" " But T was." said L having by this time become disposed to high tragedy : " T love you desperately. devo tedly, and if you choose to laugh at the life long misery of a fellow-being T can only hope you may never know by experience how to sympathize with such misery !" Poor L;zzy ! she had to bite her searlet Bps full a minute before she could speak--" Really. Tom, I do not think you know either me or yourself. or you would not have fancied—what you seem to have. May I ask ho* long von have been in this desperate state !" 0, the wicke' little witch ! that question was uttered in the sim plest, gravest tone, but I felt the satire to its full extent. I grew—all•over•ish, no other phrase expresses it. " Why— !" said I, " I did not knowit, certainly. till this morning. but I have felt it, unconsciously, this long time." " Tom, Tom, don't, be metaphysically absurd ! if you must be absurd keep this side of terms. Now I can tell you something that you hape been " feeling unconsciously This long time,"—you not only do not love me but you do love somebody else !" I drew a long breath. "Be so good as to explain !" " I mean to," replied Tizzy; " only turn round so I can see you, for I must catechise a little : never can harangue without' interhides for ten minutes together. First,• 4 l l am to prove you don't love me. You admire, I dare say, but that is nothing, not even the first step, for you would admire a prettier picture more. When I first knew you, you did not like me, your in- stinets rebelled against my character, I saw it before I had known you a month ; is it not so ?" "Do you think this'is fair, Lizzy, ? I did not know you then--I could not judge." "That is not my answer, Tom !" " Well, if you will have it, I confess I felt a little--afraid of you, perhaps ; not sure that you might not hurt me any moment." " That will pass, and you may answer my .next question to yourself, whether these very instincts have ever ceased to keep a witness among them against. me, or my nature as, you see it. If I hail loved you, I should have lost all these traits towards you, I should have ceased to rule, to criticise, to condemn." An idea struck one at that moment,'and I did not look at Lizzy, but I felt her voice was not quite steady when she began again. " If you had loved me, there are a thousand ways in which I should have seen and put nn end to it before now. You would never have been.so meek, and so easily obedient. A man who loves never loses his sense of domination if ho obeys, it is for beseeching and caresses, for love's sake, not because he recognizes a stronger nature than his own; and you know I am stronger than you in several traits," " Amen," said I, rather satirically, " Now, don't be disagreeable, Tom, I am striving for your good, as Deacon Mather says when he statistics of the tender passion, as you have tutors' his boys. You don't love me for still shown yourself ?" I accompanied the question another reason, that you never thought of it.; with a malicious stare at Lizzy, whose face was till this morning. Is that love ! born of a instantly double-dyed with crimson, and her spring day's idleness, the fickle caprice of sun- hands working relentless destruction with the shine and the south-wind? Nonsense ! it is bough of apple•blossoms. only an apt illustration of Dr. Watts' truism, " Why—to be Jr:nest—l don't—oh ! I meant that Helen, by the Wild-pigeon, Tom." " Yes, I know you did ; but I am not to bo blinded by that flAi of the oriole. Where did your wisdom come from, Lizzy ?" " Oh !-you see—dear me ! how silly I am ! Tom, T am going to lie married to George Stan ton, and that is what T brought you out here to tell you, and then wasted two mortal hours tell ing you that you were, in love with his sister ! It is too absurd !" " Starlit undo porno rniPelkier For idle littnd:l to do!" " Don't wince, for it is a fact. honestly, now, did you ever think of making love to me when you had anything else to do ? I see you can't answer, and that is speech enough. Be sides, if you had loved me, you never would have asked me as you did : you would hare considered me before yourself, and led me care- fully and tenderly toward taking the one all decisive step of a woman's life." I gave a long sigh, I was becoming convinc ed, and convinced of something Lizzy did not intend to prove. "Do you acknowledge. Tom ?" " Y-es, I suppose I must, but really Lizzy, thought I loved you, and I'm not sure yet." " I hope you do love me, after a moderate Cushion, but you are not in love with me, es intend to prove to you in the second place, be• cause you are in love with somebody else !" "I am resigned !" said I, inwardly. amused Lizzy." • at her confident tone, and, he it acknowledged, ; She looked tip, with a little, sweet laugh and a little terrified also : for I began, under her thanked me : en, rising from the turf, we gath minute questioning, to be partly conscious of—' " I up the basket and the columbines, and no matter what, yet., . , threaded our way homeward through the " Sow, I expect you to be as honest as you woods, silently enough. have hitherto shown yourself:Toni. for lam go• ll'hat night T went down to Mr. Stanton's, and pet suaded Helen to go to singing-school ing to question more closely than before. You have had dreams—all men and'wom'anlhave with me. I don't know if they had the class of a home and a Si future ; de, I know you future Side, ad of being in the red school-house, Helen and I were sitting on a pine log, by the without the master, or not. I never asked; went not six weeks ago, o look at Deacon I\ Ia- for titer's new houses upon the hill. 'Yes, don't edge of the river, in the moonlight; and after a disclaim ! I know it was with an eye to your great many devices of speech, I had at last architectural sketches. but did not your dreams : • g managed to ask her the same question I put to conic back there ? Was there not a figure (tini ly visible at the long,'window, a face turning to Lizzy in the morning. only in rather a different the gate expectantly, and a pair of neat and , wB3.' and much more easily. busy 'hands in Ile' house-wife sleep'? Now She, too, hid her fare, lent tears came drop were they nobody's !rinds ?" ping through the slender fingers, and she did not forbid me to take away the hands or dry I began to feel rather restless; how came she to know what I thought ? the tears : but looked up at me with her clear • eyes, so ran of unutterable love, that they " Moreover. is there no lady among your sense'nc 4,seemed to have grown blue. instead of gray, and quaintnnces with home you feel no entire said, softly, tt I wom'er what I ever done to be of quiet. rest, and freedom : whose entrance in- i "' mit ' '''' Loupe I" W ell An- me that T felt, with to ever so still' noel cold a room gives it n kind- ' no slight heart :wile. what the tender humility ly aspect. like the sodden lightning of a wood fire? No one of whom you think, when you are of leer speech implied, though she did not know tired, or sad, as a comforting and soothing Pre- iit herself. If I could not now dile° the past, ! Renee : no eyes to which you turn for symsympathyT would try faithfully to make her future in the expression of thought or feeling and al- hi " .•4141 ' We were married last autumn. First old Fa andways find it : no hand from which you expect , thee- Mather mnrried George and Lizzy ; then receive the thousand nameless acts of fbre• e George did the same kind office few Helen and thought and consideration that only love . me. My wild pigeon still keeps that name; and prompts ?" I had thought to some purpose. and was halt. T'izzeY and I have once and a while a little : ''lash that Helen cannot understand, Only convinced, but not fully enough to say so. y " Go on Lizzy ! I like to hear you," said T, yesterday, when I naked. Mrs. Stanton to ad. mire the corefi - ertable arrangements of my new affecting an incredulous laugh. " You are not honest," replied my catechist. e 'mils° (one of Deacon Mather's.) she informed " our laugh was in a false key : it betrays me that she " could not sympathize with the life y. long misery of a • fellow-creature !" I . had to you : but I Will go on. Is there not one per son whom you feel it constant wish to shelter la "g iL i" spite of myself. That. patient reader. is the way I came to be from all the hardness of life, to protect, to guard, to strengthen ? whose image connects married.— Ma /UM ' S 3107111thh .e. . itself in some way with every aspect of the for 4 Paten tcfmt.Es.—A dish of fried apples is tune, without iivhose ever recurring idea nei• quickly prepared for the table, which is often a ther present nor future enter into your imagin- eom,iderathin of no small importance. Wash ing ? in whom you unconeiously hope ? Mori- them —rut them in two, take out the stem. over, is there no one whom your heart tells core calyx . , and unpeeled, put them into a tin you, with undeniable instinct, loves you as n !m with butter, or the graty of baked pork, man should be loved—with entire devotion and with sonic water in proportion to the quantity pure tenderness, a patient faith and a sorrow- to be fried—cover them with a lid, set them on ful constancy, that you rely on without ac- the stove, stir then occasionally' until they be knowledging it ? Do you not trust her as . yoo come soft—and be careful not to burn them. did your mother ? Is she not a part of yourself Romanite3. which arc often almost worthless, so truly, that, till some• sudden light should baked or raw. "disappear with good gusto awaken you, you could not perceive you loved when fried." We may truthfully pronounco her ? Are not her soft dark, eyes—" despicable penics, when fried, good, but the " They're not dark they are gray." Now Porters, Belle•flowers, Tallman Sweets, and a Lizzie laughed indeed, and I too. The long list which we might:name, when fried are girl ! I was quite in her power. , really luxury. • Sour apples do not fry well— "My dear Tom, do you suppose I have not they fry to pieces too much.—C'or. Country known this three months that you were very , qodicnton• quietly sliding (not fulling) in love with Helen Stanton Of course I saw it, and so did half the village. As for yoursnploit this morning. I think I hay‘o fully . accounted for that ; and now, having shown you to yourself, and brought you to confession, do you forgive my laughter ? I own it was all unkind; but how coi.ld I help it ?" " I don't need•to forgive you. Liz#," said I. " You have done me a great service. I wonder at myself." " Don't wonder, but act, Tom. I had no au thority to say what I did about Heleri's liking you, but my own' observation, and I am by no means infalliable, I shall not laugh if she rejects yon, I assure' ybu." This suggestion made me thoroughly unquiet. I could no longer repress an impertinence I had been trying to utter for the last fifteen minutes. " We shall see," said 1,-assuming a miserable caricature of confidence. " And, by the way, Lizzy, how came you to be so well , read in the NUMBER 14. Lizzy's words camp like rockets, and her face drooped in her hands, as she finished—no—in one hand, for I had taken the other, and abso lutely was kissing it, I was so very glad. George Stanton was the finest fellow in the county, fully worthy of Lizzy, had ust finished his theological course. and was to be installed in Colebrook next month. It was exactly tho best thing, and as soon as I found words, I told her so. aiding. somewhat ruefully, " I hardly expected to be congratulating you on this sub ject, two hours ago, but I am sincerely glad; Mixel; Puts.—Boil three pounds of lean beet till tender, and When cold chop it fine. Chop three pounds of clear beef suet, and mix the mutt, sprinkling in a tablespoonful of salt. Pare, core and chop fine six pounds of good ap ples ; stone four pounds of raisins and chop them : wash and dry two pounds of currants, and mix them well with the meat. Season with a spoonful of powdered cinnamon, a pow dered nutmeg, a littic.macc, a few cloves, pound. ed, and a quart of white sugar ; add a quart of Madeira wine and a pound of citron cut into small bits. This mixture put down in ajar and descry covered will keep sorrel s weeks. CRRISTNIAS PUDDING.—Cover the bottom of baking dish with ' , levy thin slices of stale bread and butter, with the crust cut off ht strew it over with mince meat, and so on till your dish is full ; pour a thick custard over all, and bake an hour or an hour and a half according to the size. h • 0
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