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El
VOLUME X.
(Boob sforq.
A TALE OF LAKE E
by G. W. TUOMItON
"Tell her of him whoSe lowly grove,
Shall uidilt bet dark eye never,
Ills pillow in the stormy wave,
- The deep his home forever."
ABUZZ went through the American Camp,
and the scanty dressed soldiers were seen
passing from one tent to another ; the whole
exhibited a scene of confusion and anxiety, and
the deep touches of interest "which dwelt upon
the countenances of officers and soldiers gave
evidence that a more than common sacrifice
was expected from one, or from all.
The " star spangled banner" waving, proudly
in the breeze, and the insignia of command ar
ranged in due order before one of the principal
tents pointed out the soldier-like habitation of
the chief in command. The General sat in his
tent, his head was pensively reclining on his
hand, as he mused on the asperities of a sol
dier's fortune, and perhaps in his reverie he
heard the tones of sweet Clara's voice as she
"Rept. warrior, reeL"
Ire wa3 in that kind of reverie from which it
is painful to be aroused, and the indulgence of
which is marked with the " joy of grief."—
George Wortley entered : a deep gloom was on
his countenance, indicative of feelings which,
brooded over some blighted hope—some fond
remembrance which had once been all sun
shine, but which now darkened. Ile entered,
but without any MILITARY formalities, and he
was kindly received by his superior officer :
who never considered his pr . esence as an intru
sion. George's countenance assumed if possi
ble a deeper shade of melancholy as ho opened
the conversation by informing the General that
he offered to go upon the proposed adventure.
The General warmly answered, " George,
there are many whom we can Later spare—an
ignominious death fm . % ; e re .m m el ligavexer i l, 1111 . 4
should you return stu j
, •• IL is my wish to go"re
iurned George, " these brave fellows, have
something to bind them to the world." You
know my tale, misery has made me drink of his
cup, and a broken heart little reeks of joy or
life. All things arc ready, and Igo - to-night :
if I fall, give a tear to my memory. but let my
fate be unknown." As he spoke he extended
his hand to the general, who rising from his
suit; shook a tear from his eyelid, and fervently
grasping George's hand, with a soldier's fare
well greeting said, - Good bye, George, and
may God bless you."
The American encampment was but a few
miles west of the town of Buffalo, and com
manded an unobstructed view of the whole of
that part of Lake Eric. The morning previ
ously as the sun arose slowly wheeling from the
deep, and rolled back the curling vapor from
the bosom of the lake, several vessels bearing
tho British flag rode at. anchor in full view,
with stately pride, and looked like spirits of
the waters. It was known to the American
General that they bore important despatches,
and that it would facilitate his cause, and per
haps save his army from some, meditated dan
ger, to become acquainted with the design oC
the opposing enemy.. The vessels still rode, in
full view, and the breeze of the evening fre
quently bore to the ill.provided Americans, the
sound of uncolith mirth and wanton revelry.—
The delay of the vessels was occasioned by
desire of the British officers to learn the situa
tion and force of the American Army, but the
disposition of the men by the commandant was
such as rendered every attempt of the kind im
practicable. To propose himself as an adven
turer to discover the designs of the enemy by
visiting the vessel was the object of Genrgo
Wortley's visit to the General's tent. Others
were willing to undertake the perilous task, but
George claimed it as a mat ter of right as well as
favor, which was however reluctantly allowed.
As he departed from the Genes tent an unu
sual fire beamed from his tranquil eye, an unusu
al glow throw a light on his heretofore wan and
pallid features. He felt the warm blood rush
to his heart and invigorate his whole system :
be was then happy, but why, he knew not.—
He hastened to his tent to make preparation
for the night's adventure: his companions in
rank sighed as he passed by, and the old soldier
turned away, as he thought perhaps erelong the
muffled drum might give to the sighing gale the
story of his ignominious fate.
The sun had gone down, and but one lone and
lovely star shone amid the dying glory of the
west. George Wortley passed from his tent
disguised in the habit of a British sailor, and, 1
as he supposed, went forth alone. The banks
of the lake were high and abrupt and the waves
dashed and foamed with a sullen voice at their
rocky base. He followed the winding margin
of the banks until . he came to a small rivulet
which dashed down a deep, abrupt and narrow
channel, which at the bottom formed a OM and
PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY HAINES & DIEFENDERFER AT ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS PER ANNUM.
secluded bay, in which was concealed the boat
that was to bear him to the enemy's vessels.—
lie winded his way down the ragged descent,
and emerging from the darkness which always
reigned there, he came to his boat peacefully
moored in the romantic little bay, and in a few
minutes his frail bark tossing on the swelling
waves. Ho had proceeded half way to the ves
sel : the night had advanced and was clear and
beautiful ; it was such a night as an astrologer
would have chosen to read in the thousand stars
the fate of mankind—silence dwelt on the blue
heaving bosom of the billows, the god of repose
reclined on his couch of forgetfulness, add
No longer the joy in the Sailor Bny's brenst
Was heard in the wildly breathed numbers,
The Fea bird had flown to her wave girdled nest,
The Fisherman sunk to his slumbers.
He bad proceeded above half way, lost iri his
accustomed gloomy reflections, when, starting
from his trance of feeling he laid his hand upon
his dagger and sternly eyed some being coiled
up in the farther end of the boat, who had
hitherto remained unnoticed. The thought
flashed on his brain that he had been betrayed.
and returning the dagger to his sheath he drew
a pistol from his left breast and took deliberate
aim, but his fatal design was arrested by a hu
man being, (if he deserved the name,) crying
out in a most unearthly voice, " Don't kill poor
Nab:" George recognized in the voice and per
son of the speaker (which immediately become
erect) the " Idiot Boy" on whom he had con
ferred many trifling favors. His first impulse
was to return back and leave the Idiot on
shore ; but the moon, which was just begin
ning to silver in the East, would have betrayed
his visit to the vessels if detained by a move
ment of the kind, and to back without accom
plishing the object of his visit was to brand
himself with the epitaph of a coward. Here his
feelings became so excited that ho exclaimed
Death sooner than infamy." His next thought
as a matter of self defence was to consign the
poor boy to the mercy of the waves. The
Idiot, with a voice and a manner of touching
tenderness peculiar to such unfortunate beings.
With I'l7;;A — BiTr.sVf ,-
hung his head to think he had meditated an
injury to a being who felt so deeply interested
in his welfare. He determined to proceed to
the vessel and trust his life to the discretion of
an Idiot boy. He ran his boat close under one
of the principal vessels, and having secured it so
as to excite suspicion, be mounted the side and
with a beating heart trod the proud deck of a
British Man of War. Ile mingled with the
dusty forms that gathered round the masts,
and listened to their simple tales of love which
had blessed them beneath another sky. His
head fluttered wildly as he heard the seamen
from his guarded way proclaim to the rising
131111
"Above—below—good niglit—All's Well."
• The Idiot instinctively stole away and con
cealed himself in one retired corner ; the sailors
were repoSing in their hammocks, and only now
and then persons were seen passing from one
part of the deck to the other. The warm blood
bounded to George Wortley's head—burned• for
a moment, then rushed back to his almost un
palpitating heart, as he listened to the last dy
ng pensive cadence of a female voice. It was
such as recalled to his mind a sound which bad
blessed him in a happier day. He approached
near the spot when the strain was again re
sumed and the following verse sung to an air of
the sweetest melancholy :
I'll never weave for thee a sing,
Nor wildly touch the warbling lyre
Words may be false, or taken wrong,
And music's note too soon expire:
Words may be false, but oh s ! believe,
There yet is one will not deceive,
Will not deceive.
Tis she !" exclaimed Wortley ; and over
come by his feelings, sprang to the place and
continued the exclamation. " My God ! Martha
Woodville." The female fell into his arms and
was entirely unconscious while he impressed a
fervent kiss upon her palid cheek. Her vigor
and recollection returning together, she burst
from his embrace and exclaimed, " Fly, dear
Wortley, he is here," and retreated to the cabin.
George was aroused from the • inaction into
which ho was thrown by her language and the
suddenness of her light, by receiving a stab from
behind, which was only prevented from being
fatal by the point of a weapon glancing out
wardly from the ribs. Ha wheeled around and
closing in upon the coward assassin, wrested
his sword from him, and placing the blade be
neath his foot snapt it in twain. Ile was about
to throw the pieces into the lake when ho saw
the enamelled name glancing in the moon beams
—with a voice or hatred heightened to, phrenzy
he Yelled. " Me'Dole. cursed villain," and sprang
towards him ; but Mc'D. eluded his grasp end
ran to the cabin of the admiral, but soon re
turned to the deck with a command to arrest
Captain George Wortley of the American Army.
The command was immediately put into execu
tion, and George gloomily resigned himself to
his fate, knowing that the man who had basely
Allentown, Pa., January 9, 1856.
separated:him from the woman of his lore would
triumph that he perished by the meanest felon's
death
George Wortley and Martha Woodville were
the pride of two villages in the interior of the
United States. Their talc was one of perhaps
too frequent occurrence. They saw each other
—loved—and were engaged, and that engage-
ment was approved by a mother ever solicitous
for a daughter's happiness. Her father had
" rejoiced the stars," and none else were left
who had a right to interpose aught between
these congenial spirits. The bridal day was
appointed, and Time, smoothing his wrinkled
brow, leaned on the anchor of Hope, and for
once smiled benignant on the bliss of human
hearts. The song iwhich Martha bad been
singing on board the vessel was one framed by
George in the duty of his happy courtship.--
Her guardian, Me'Dole, was a person whom
she had always been taught to respect and look
up to with reverence, for he had been consider
ed a virtuous, amiable and a worthy man ; he
violently opposed George Wortley's suit, and
succeeded in extorting a promise from Martha
not to wed without his consent. He had other
objects in view than Martha's happiness. Ile
had sold his honor and those talents which
should have been devoted to his country's good.
for British gold, and that power demanded
some one as an hostage, that lie tepid not turn
from the course of his villainy. As such an
hostage he delivered up Martha Wood Ville to
men whose virtue was doubtful and whose
honor he knew not—such was the cause of her
presence ou board the enemy's vessels.
The night after George's capture rolled heav
ily away, and, mental agony forbade him the
sweets of repose. Martha passed the night in
doubt And anxiety, nor was the time of Me'Dole
less sleepless, for The wolf in pursuit of human
blood will howl on through all the night. The
morning came on ; the sun rose brilliantly and
imparted all his splendor to the scenery of the
Lake. The officers of the squadron had "tet as
a Court Martial, and Capt: Wortley tikiLar
raigned as a s•py before
He did not deny the charge, and was sentenced
to the yard arms with a respite till the nest
morning at sunrise. Martha, who had broken
from the hold of her guardian, ran upon deck
•
and fell in George's nrms shrieking, " save him,
save him." MeDole, who had pursued, was
about to force her from the embrace of her in-
jured lover, when the Admiral, with a voice of
stern fierceness exclaimed, "Dide, beware."
The baseness of McDole burst upon him at once,
and he felt that Wortley was an injured man ;
lie asked of George the history; of his life, which
was told with as little warmth as possible ;
the old Admiral grasped his hand, pitied and
shed a tear for his fate, because he could not
avert it. At the strong solicitude of. George
and the gentle advice of the good old Admiral,
Martha permittei herself to be removed to a
distant vess'el, for grief had rendered her nearly
passive. George was left to prepare for his
fate, and received all the kindness he could have
wished in his situation ; one of the state rooms
having been allotted to himself.
The day on board the Admiral's vessel passed
away in silence, and everything like unbecom
ing mirth was repressed: The night had come
on, and MeDole wns sullenly pacing the deck,
for there he knew he was hated and despised,
although on that vessel he-wore a sword, the
emblem of an officer ho dared not own in hiS
native land. The idiot, who had witnessed
every thing that had transpired, grasped a
rusted knife that lay on the deck, and which
had been used by the sailors in cleaning fish,
rushed upon McDole, gave him a fatal stab,
and with a hysteric laugh, heaved him to the
dark green wave. TheßtadesEended the side
of the vessel, and with feelings of joy that he
could not express. loosened the boat and in an in
stant waS before the window of the state room.
Finding that it would not give way to gentle
pressure, he raised ono of the oars and dashed
the window to pieces. George sprang and
hailed the idiot as his deliverer, lowered him
self into the boat, and with a beating heart di
rected their course to the American shore.—
They had proceeded but a short. distance when
one of the stnallbst pins in the Admiral's vessel
was fired to leeward—Georges fight had been
discovered, and all the boats were lowered in
his pursuit ; every nerve was strained by the
hardy seaman, faithful to their duty; and the
bright starlight of the evening soon pointed out
the boat of George and the idiot moving com
paratively slow towards the land of their grand
sires and their liberty. A volley of 'musketry
was fired from the pursuers, when the poor idiot
boy fell struggling back into the boat—George
stood up, and.determined to die the death of a
soldier, that his Memory should not be branded
with the ignomy of a felon's fate. The seamen,
as if conscious of his intention, throw in another
volley. whCn a piercing groan came from the
boat, and George Wortley fell back, while his
life blood darkened on the -billow. The shat
tered boat filled rapidly with water, and soon
sunk down to moulder with the sea covered
weed. The moon again arose as brilliant as
over—the god of repose reclined again on the
couch of forgetfulness, and the proud waves of
Lake Erie rolled brightly and gloriously on.
Stranger ! I have stood where the blood
tinged billow of that night's struggle dashed its
white foam on the beach, where on the green
branch above, the wild eagle screamed to the
warrior's. requiem. I have seen Martha sit at
her parlor window turn pensively and weep ;
but she now only exists in the recollections of
many, as a bright dream of their childhood, for
she, too, has long since mingled with the clods
of the valley.
COMIC DUTCH PARODY.
On Milking and his Dinah
Ti.- of a rich Dutchman in New Yorck did live;
fie had von tine daughter you patter pelieve;
Tier 11/11110 was Katarina, as fair ash a roso,
Cad she had a large fortune in de hands of old Mose
Ash Kutarina vas drawing do lager bier von day,
Her fader coined to her no dus be do say;
.‘ Hurry up Katarina t do parlor go to,
A customer waits to go riding wit you."
Oh fader, wy don't dey some oder ghal find?
To ride mit them fullers, I don't feel inclined:
De way dcy drives dey buggy it makes me feel weak,
Cn I twant:i to get married snit Dons Dunder next week.
Den her fader get mad an he shvear his "gott dam!"
She never mtnt marry mit any young man,
" If you lose die Han's Dander, you may go take hie
bags.
Mit his hool:g, un his linhicols, an go gadder rags."
Io to the kitchen she ran,
Saying " eat tip mine brenhfast so fast vot I can,
Den I'll travel avny, no I can't be his rife."
But dal vas dey ray dot bile loosed her life
For ash she ens eating a big 'Ninny sassage,
It sthielet in her trout, On it stop'd up de passage ;
She tried for to breath, but by grief overcome,
ller head it reeled round, un she fall very dumb.
Now Hans Dunder, he Lappen'd to calk in do door,
lie seed his Katt - Irina lying dead on do floor;
A big holony mnssnge vas lying by her side,
Sitys fans " I be tool, 'twos mit this Ling she died."
Now all you young vmmuins votehor yo do,
Don't let that Hans Dundor opheak oaiuethings mil
•
you,
1.7 n oil you young fulk.rA, yen you courts in do pas
•
ge,
Dinlc of Hans un Kutarina no de Li;; Itololly swengc,
Pcrsoaal Beauty.
Just -about the last inheritance which a i
rent should wish his child—whether male or
female, is personal beauty. It is about the'
poorest kind of capital to start in the world
with. Who ever saw a beauty who was worth
the first red cent ?, • We mean what the world
calls beauty, for there is a kind of beauty morel
than skin deep, which the world does not ful
ly recognise. It is not of that which we speak.
But the girl whom all the fops and fools go into'
exstacies over and about—we should as soon a
child of ours should be—not quite so beautiful.
And then your handsome young man over and
about whom all the foolish school girls are in
exstacies, what chance has he of being any-
body? A sad destroyer of high ambition is beau
ty. From being fitted for the shallow pates of
the other sex, who can appreciate nothing else,
they become content with a low standard of
attainment, and are ham only when dancing
attendance upon those who are pleased with
their insipidity.
VANILLA.
The vanilla, so much prized for its delicious
flavor, is the product of a vine which grows to
the tops of the loftiest trees. Its leaves some
what resemble those of the grape ; the flowers
are red and yellow, and when they fall off are
succeeded by the pods, which grow in clusters
like our ordinary beans ; green at first, they
change to pillow, and finally to a dark brown.
To be preserved they arc gathered when yellow,
and put in heaps for a few days, to ferment•
They are afterward placed in the sun to dry,
flattened by .the hand, and carefully rubbed
with cocoanut oil, and then packed in dry plan
tain leaves, so as to confine their powerful aro
matic odor. The vanilla bean is the article
used to scent snuff flavor ice-creams, jellies,
&c., &c. The plant grows in Central America,
and other hot countries.
m.vralmosiAL.
A writer has computed that a woman has
lost half her chances of marriage at her tweu
tieth year ; at twenty-three she has lost three
fourths of her opportunities ; and at twenty-six
seven-eights of her chances are gone. Eighteen
hundred and fifty-six is leap year—that de
lightful Season when, by common consent,•the
fair sex eau indicate their preference. Look at
the facts presented above, and then improve
the advant nesof the present year. Delays are
' dangerous.
oO' When a man dies, people generally in
quire what property he has left behind him ?
The angels will ask, what good deeds he has
sent before him.
DO RATS REASON I
A few evenings since, (says the Ladies" Own
Journal, of September twenty-third,) as the
rain was falling in torrents, deluging the little
yard by the house, a large rat was observed to
come hurriedly out a hole by the side of the
house, where the water was pouring in, and
springing forward to an opposite building for a
moment disappeared. Back again came the
rat, and plunged into the hole, which was fast
being filled with water, and in:a moment re-ap
peared, bearing in her mouth a young rat,
which she carried to the opposite building.
Thus she continued to labour, until five of the
young had been arrested _from a watery grave,
and deposited in a place of safety ; but on com
ing again from the wall with one of her young
in her mouth, she dropped it down upon the
ground, and after looking a moment, again-took
it up, and trying to wake it, laid it down again.
The little one was dead— it had been drowned.
After repeated efforts to bring to life her off
spring, she mournfully left the little one, and
went to .the new home she had prepared for her
more fortunate family.
HATS.
Hats, which are now such an indiSpensable ar
ticle of dress, were at one period unknown ; and
caps were worn only by men of very advanced
age: Julius Ccesar, having a bald head, intro-
duced the custom of wearing wreaths, or tur
bans
of laurel. This circumstance, and the
covering of their beads by the aged, who at that
time were regarded with peculiar honor, caused
the wearing of caps to be looked upon asa mark
of distinction, and was, therefore after a short
time, universally adopted by men of rank.
A cap also became the badge of freedom, and
ns soon as a slave was liberated he had one
presented to him, and was given permissicin to
wear it in public. The cereinony of giving
freedom was thus porformed—the slave was
brought before the consul, and in after ages, i
before the praetor, by his master, who, laying
his hand 'upon the slave's head, said to the
praetor, " I wish this man to be free, at the
TM 11 He AIM NW, .b Wfi LW. ( UR I ingrok
tin word 711011111110.550, and the phrase smalls
emitters, to let go from the hand. The master
then gave him a blow on the cheek, and preset),
ted him to the consul, who, striking him gently
with his rimlista, (wand) pronounced these
I words, " I pronounce thee free, ac!ording to the
custom of the Romans."
This ceremony being ended, the slave was
registered upon the roll of freemen. He was
then shaven and taken to the temple of the 1
goddess Feronia, where he is made to sit on
" the stone of liberty," which bore this inscrip•
tion—" Slaves of honorable desert may sit
here ; when they rise up they are free." Fi
nally he was presented by his master with a
cap, which was a symbol of his freedotn,and
was suffered to depart.
The " cap of liberty" is thus described by
historians :—" It was simple in its form, being
broad at the rim, to show that freedom stands
on a firm basis, and running to a point like a
pyramid, to signify that it should last forever ;
it was of a tine white color, to expres the wear
er's abhorrence of spots and stains caused by
factions and tyranny ; it was without orna
ment, to import his contempt of the baubles of
pompous despotism, and it was made of wool
to signify that freedom was the birthright of
the shepherd as well as the Senator."
Trip lightly over Trouble
Trip lightly over trouble—
Trip lightly over wrong ;
We only make grief double
By dwelling on it long. .
Why clasp woe's hand so tightly?
,•• Why sigh o'er blossoms dead?
Why cling to forms so slightly?
Why not seek joy instead? •
Trip lightly over sorrow;
Though this day may ha dark,
Tho sun may shine to-morrow, •
And gaily Slug the lark ;
Fair hopes have not departed,
Though roses may kayo fled ;
Then never he down-henrtod.
But look for joy instead.
Trip lightly over sadnosn,
Stand not to rail at doom ;
Wove pearls to strineof gladness
On this side of tho tomb;
Whilst stars are nightly shining,
And Heaven is overhead,
Encourage not repining,
But look for joy instead.
A BILLION.
Few people have conception of the stu
pendous sum which is designated by this, term,
which. according to Webster's dictionary, is a
million of millions. A manufactory making one
hundred pins a minute, and kept in constant op.
eration, would only make fifty-two millions five
hundred and ninety-six thousand per annum,
and would'require nearly twenty thousand years,
at the same ratio, without a single moment's
cessation , to make that number called a billion.
NUMBER 15.
SlTns and Wonders
When will signs and wonders cease 4 Not
till the destroying angel shall clip the thread of
time, and the heavens shall be rolled togeth
er as a scroll. Not a day passes but what we
see good and bad signs, as the following will
show :
It's a good sign to have a -man enter your
office with a friendly greeting—" Here's a dol
lar and a half for fitly paper."
It's a bad
.sign to hear a man say he is too
poor to take a paper—ten to one, he carries
home a jug of " red eyo" that costs him half s
It's a good sign to see a man doing an act of
charity.
It's a bad sign to hear him boasting of it.
It's a good sign to see the flush of health in a
man's face.
It's a bad sign to see it concentrated in his•
nose.
It's a good sign to see an honest man wear
ing old clothes.
It's a .bad sign to see them filling holes in'
his windows.
Anv ten TO Com:Errxs.—Young ladies, beware
how you coquette, or you may repent it to tho
last day of your life. Though a gay young
girl may be fond of society and attention, fond
of admiration, and desirous of being the cyno
sure of all eyes, let her not coquette. Let her
not play with hearts as she, did with her dolls
in infancy, lest she inflict misery and wretch
edness on herself as well as on her victims.,
Man despises a coquette, and it is only the in
herent vanity of a man which promotes their .
success as his own opinion of himself leads him
to suppose that he must be the favored one.
A coquette is feared, dreaded and despised by
all sensible persons both of the other sex and
her own. Her triumphs are ever brief, and
when she falls and looses her power she is not
pitied but despised. She falls—
" Unwept, unhonored and unsung,"
Her latter days are days of vinegar—her dis
position, her temper, her whole nature grows
WHili7Vii i cruet, delighting
only in spiteful slander and malice, her only
bonne bauche the news of a trim. con. case, a
divorce, a broken love match, or an unhappy
marriage. Gentlemen, shun a coquette if you
would be happy !
To INIAxn Tom; ron CAKI33. —Take of the best
white sugar one pound, and pour over it just
enough cold water to dissolve the lumps ; then
take the whites of 11rre eggs, and beat them a
little, bdi not to a stiff froth ; add these to the
sugar and water ;- put it inn deep bowl, place
the bowl in a vessel of boiling water, and beat
the mixture. It will first become thin and
clear, and afterwards begin to thicken. Whim
'it becomes quite thick, remove it from the fire,
and continue the beating until it becomes cold
and thick enough ; then spread it on with a
knife. It is perfectly white, glistens beauti
fully, and is so hard and smooth when dry,
that you may write very well ou it with a
pencil.
CI:STAMM—The common rule for these is
eight eggs to a quart of milk ; but you can
make very good custard with six, or even four
eggs to the quart. Custard may be boiled, or
baked, either in cups, or one large dish. It
may be put in a shallow paste, and prepared
as a pie, or into a.deep paste for a pudding.
'There should always be a little salt in the fla
voring. The milk should always be boiled and
cooled again before being used ; this makes it
much rbhcr.
A DEAt.sa IN Lon.: Pt wtmas.—A man who
calls himself a doctorhas been arrested in Now
York, accused or swinding a number of country
pumpkins by selling them " love powders." A
man who is not content to make love in the
good old delightful way, of setting up o'nights
after the old folks have gone to bed; deserves to•
be swindled, and if we could be upon the jury
which tries the doctor, the only verdict we
would agree to would be, " served 'ens right,
confound 'em."
BAKED POT PlE.—From this time forth, we
like to haven good many pot pies. A pan, two
inches deep, needi only an upper and under
crust, filled with apples ; a deeper. pan needs a
middle crust ; sprinkle a little allspice and nut
meg, with water enough to cook it : let it bako
an hour, or till the apples are done, and cat
with sweetened milk. Dried apples make
equally as good a pie, by first stewing them.
To CURE FRECELES.—Take two ounces of
lemon juice, half a dram of powdered borax,
and ono dram of sugar. Mix together, and let
them stand& a glass bottle for a few days ;
then rub it on the hands and face occasionally.
- -
o:7"Pleasant. To open your wife's jewel box
and disc Over a strange gentleman's hair done
up as a keep-sake. We know of nothing that
mitkes an ardent temperament feel moral
" fighty."
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