Di D. A. C. H. BUEHLER
VOLUME XXIII
Twenty Years Aso.
I've wandered to the oil Ilse, Tom ; Pre eat he-
neath the tree,
Upon the achool•houae play-ground, which shel-
tared you end me ;
But none were there to greet me, Tom ; ■nd few
were lell to know,
That played with us upon the gran, tome twenty
years ago.
The gran is just as green, Tom ; bare-footed boys
at play.
Were sporting just is we did then, with spirits
just la gay
But the "Master" sleeps upon the hill, which, coat
ed o'er with snow,
Afforded us a sliding place, just twenty years ego.
The old school house is altered some; the benches
are replaced
By new ones, very like the same our penknives
had defaced; •
But the same old bricks are in the wall; the bell
swings to and fro,
Its music just the same, dear Tom, 'twee twenty
years ago.
The boys were playing some old game, beneath
that same old tree;
I do forget the name just now—you've played the
same with me;
On that same spot; 'twas played with knives, by
throwing so end au ;
The leader had a task to do—there, twenty years
ago.
The river's running just as still ; the willows on
its side
Are larger than they were, Tom ; the stream ap
pearl' lees wide—
But the grape vine swing is ruined now, where
°nee we played the beau,
And swung our sweethearta—.pretty girls"—just
twenty years ago.
The spring that bubbled 'neath the hill, claw by
the spreading beech,
Is very loar—'twaa once so high, that we could al.
moat reach ;
And. kneeling down to get a drink, dear Tom, 1
started so,
Toles how much that I am changed, since twen
ty years ago,.
Neat the spring, upon an elm, you knor 1 cut
your WIMP.
Your sweetheart'. just beneath it. Tom, and you
did name the same;
Some heartless wretch had peeled the hark— Inas
dy ins; sure . but glow,
Just ae that one. whose name was cut, died twen
ty year. ago.
My lids have long been dry, Tom, but tears came
in my eyes;
I thought of her I loved so arell—those early bro-
ken ties ;
I visited the nl•1 church-yard, •nd took some flow.
era to strew
Upon the grave* of those we loved, some twenty
years ago.
Rome are in the chuich•yatd laid—wine sleep be.
neath the wit ;
But few are left of our old class, excepting you
and me ;
And when one time .hall come, Tom, and when
we're railed to no,
I hope they'll lay us where we played, just twen
ty years ago.
TIED LITTLE! BOUND BOY'S
1.4:43,:547,4
BY MRS. lA. A. DENISON
A little fair-haired child laid its pale
check against a pillow of straw.
It had toiled up three pair of narrow,
dark stairs, to gain its miserable garret,
for it was a little "bound child," that had
neither father or mother ; so no soft bed
awaited his tired limbs, but a miserable
pallet, with one thin coverlid. It had
neither lamps nor candle to lighten the
room, if such it might be called ; still that
Was not so bad, for the beautiful round
moon smiled in upon. the poor bound boy,
and almost kissed his forehead, as his sad
eyes closed dreamily.
But after a while, as he laid there, what
a wondrous change came over the place.—
A groat light shone down, the huge black
rafters turned to solid gold, and these
seemed all studded with tiny, , precious
P par kling stones. The broken floor, too,
was. all encrusted with shining crystals,
and the child raised himself upon his el
bow, and gazed with a half fearing, hall'
delighted look upon the glorious right.
One spot on the wall seemed too bright
for his vision to endure, but presently, as
if emerging from it, came a soft white figure,
that stood by the poor bound boy's bed
side. The child shut his eyes ; ho was a
little, only a little frightened, and his heart
boat quickly, but he found breath to mur
mur, "tell me, who are you ?"
"Look up, be not afraid," said a sweet
voice, "that sounded like the harps of hoe
en, "look up, darling, I am your brother
Willy, sent down from the angels to speak
with you and - tell you to bear all your sor
rows patiently, for you will soon be with
us."
"What 1 you my brother Willy 1 oh,
no, no, that cannot bo ; my brother Wil
ly was very pale, and his clothes were
patched and torn, and there was a hump
on his back, and ho used to go into the
muddy streets and pick up bits of wood
and chips; but your face is quite too hand
some and your clothes prettier than I ev
er saw before; and there is no ugly hump
on your back—besides, my brother Willy
is dead long ago.
"I am your brother Willy, your immor
talbrother ; my body, with the ugly lump,
is dead and turned to ashes ; but just as
soon as that died, I went up to the great
heaven, and saw sights I cannot tell you
about now, they were so very, very beau
tiful. But. God, who is your Father and
mine, gave me these bright garments that
never get soiled; and I was , so happy that
I expect my face was changed very much,
and I grew tall and straight ; so no woad
wr you do not know me."
Acid now the little bound boy's tears
began to fall.
"Olt I",..ita exclaimed earnestly, "if I
400 0044 go to heaven 1"
"Ymt can go," replied tke angel, with a
mails of ineffable • sweetnei, "you have
learned , how to read ; well, to-morrow get
your bible and find very reverently—for
it is God's most holy book—these words
of the Lord Jesus : "But I say unto you,
love your enemies, bless them that curse
you, do good to them that bate you, and
pray for them whiah despitefully use you
and persecute you."
"Do all these, and you shall be the child
of your father which is above."
"Even if they beat me 1" murmured
the little bound boy with a quivering lip.
A flash of light passed over the angel's
face as ho replied, "the more you forgive,
the nearer you will be to heaven."
In another moment the vision had gone,
but still the room was all blazing with an
unearthly radiance.
As the little boy fell back upon his pil
low his wan face reflected the angel's smile,
and he thought, "I will forgive them even
if he beat me."
Suddenly a more musical voice than the
former fell upon his ear. This time he
was not afraid, but sitting upright on his
mise•*ble couch, he saw a figure that seem
ed to lift itself to the wall, a ray of in-
tense brightness outlined all its form ; its
eyes blazed, yet there was a mild beauty
in them every time they looked into his
"Little one, I am your father," said the
form, in melting accents.
"I don't think you can be my father,"
whispered the boy, timidly. "My father
used to look very old, indeed ; and he got
hurt, and wore a crutch ; there were wrin
kles on his face, and all over his forehead;
his hair was short and white—not long
like yours. And my father used to stoop
over, and wear a little black apron, and put
patches on i-hoes, in a little dark room."
"And what else ?"
"He used to pray arid sing very sweetly,
but I never hear any praying and singing
now," sail the child, bursting into tears.
"Don't cry, dear little boy, but listen to
me. I ant your father, your immortal fa
ther, that poor lame body is all gone now,
mingled with the dust of thegrave-yard.—
As soon as the breath left that deformed
body I was with the shining angels, hosts
and hosts of them bore me up to heaven :
and the King of that glorious place clothed
me in these robes, white and stainless, and
gave me this beautiful body, which shall
never feel corruption. And this was the
reason, dear little orphan—because I loved
and my chief delight was in praying
to Him, and talking about Hint, and al
though I was very poor I tried to be hon
est, and many times went hungry rather
than do wrong. And if you never forget
to say the little prayers that I taught you,
if you will keep God's commandments,
and trust in him always, you shall soon
be with me in my sweet Heavenly home."
Once more the child was left alone, and
still the rafters were golden, the walls pear
ly,"tho old floor studded with brilliants,
and the same soft, mysterious light over
all.
A strain of holy music fell faintly upon
his enraptured senses ; it gre'v) louder and
came nearer and nearer to the head of his
little bed. And then a voice—oh far
sweeter than either of the others, sang, 'my
child, my little earth child, look upou me,
I am thy mother.'
In a moment what emotions swelled the
bosom of the lonely boy. lie thought of
her cherished tenderness to him long years
ago, of her soft arms around his neck, her
gentle lips pressing his forehead, then came
up the cruelty of strangers, who, after she
had been put away in the cold ground,
treated him with harshness.
He turned towards her, oh ! what a glo
rious being; her eyes were like ears; her
hair like the most precious gold; but there
was that in her face that none other might
so truly know. He had doubted if the first
risen was his brother, if the second was his
father, but not once did he doubt that this
beautiful being was his own dear mother.
A little while he kept down his strong
feeling, but the thought of the past and
the present overpowered him.
"Oh I mother, mother, mother," he
cried, stretching forth his little hand, "let
me come to you—let me come; there iB no
body in this world like you ; no one kisses
me now; no one loves me—oh I mother,
mother, lot me co i tne and the hot tears
rained down his cheeks.
"My orphan child," she said in low tones,
that thrilled him to the heart, "you can-
not come to me now, but Eaton to me.—
I am very often near you when you know
it not. Every day lam by your !tido, and
when you come to this lonely room to weep,
my wings encircle you. I behold you suf
fer, but I know that God will not give you
more sorrow than you can boar. When
you resist e_vil, I whisper calm and tender
thoughti into your soul; but when you
give way to an anger, when you cherish a
spirit of revenge, you drive your mother
from you; and displease the great.and holy
90d.
"Be good, be happy, even amidst all
your trials, and if it is s oonsolation,know
that thy immortal mother often communes
with thy soul. And farther, thou shalt
**on be with me." .
"Oh I mother, mother, mother," mar.
GETTYSBURG, PA., FRIDAY EVENING, NOVEMBER 19,1852.
mured the boy, springing from his bed,
and striving to leap towards her. The
keen air chilled him—he looked eagerly
around—there was no light, a solemn still
ness reigned, the radiance, the rafters of
gold, the silvery beams, the :ulnae, the
angcla—all were gone. And then he knew
that he had been dreaming; but oh ! what
a dream 1 how strengthening, how cheer
ing; never, never would he forgot it.
The nest morning when he went down
to his scant breakfast, there was such a
beautiful serenity upon his face, such a
sweet gladness in his eyes, that all who
looked upon him forebore to taunt or chide
him.
Ho told his dream ; and the hard hearts
that listened were softened; and the moth
er who held her own babe was so choked
with her tears that she could not oat; and
the father said inwardly that henceforth
he would be kinder to the poor, and so he
was. The child found his way into their
affections, ho was so meek, prayerful, so
good; and at the end of a twelvemonth,
when the angels did in very deed take him
far above to Heaven, the wholefannly wept
around the little coffin as if he was one of
their own. But they all felt that he was
in the bright heaven with his brother, his
father, and his dear angel mother.
Touching Lines
The following beautiful lines bear the
heart's impress. They were written by
Chichester, on tue death of his
- wife :
Sleep on my love in thy cold bed;
Neer to be nisquietsd ;
I My I.lst "goon night!" Thou wilt not wake,
' l ill I . thy fare shall overtake ;
Tin age, or grief, or sickness, must
Marry my bony to thinnest
It so nor h tetra; arid fill the room
My heart keeps elipty in the tomb;
Stay Ito the there; I will not tail
To inert thee to that hollow vale ;
And think not Much of illy tlelay ;
I AM already our the u at,
And w thee with all the speed
Desire ran 111 .kv, or aotrow breed.
Each minute is a short degree.
And rvrry hour a 'rep towards thee;
At night, when I betake u, rest,
Next MOM I rise nrarer Inv west
of life, almost by eight hors sail,
Than when sleep breathed his drowsy gale
Influence of n Newspaper,
29,..A school teacher who has been en
gaged a long timd in his profession, and
witnessed the influence of a newspaper up
on the minds of a family, writes to the ed
itor of the Ogdensburg St-ntinel as follows :
have found it to be a uni I fact, without
eiceptl•m, that theme scholar• of both WIPP and
of all age., who have had scream to ne, Niapera•t
home, when compared with those who have not,
are
'Setter renders, excelling in pronunciation
■nd erni,lia.is, and consequently read more un
derstandingly.
2. They are better spellers and define words
ith more ease and securary.
3. They oht,in a practical knowledge of geog
raphy in almost half - he time it requires others,
u the tieamp:Ter h.s made them familiar pith
the location of the impoitant places, nations, their
Governments and doingq, on the globe.
4. They are better grammarians, for having be
come so familiar with every variety ofstyle in the
newspaper. from the commonplace advertisement
to the finished and classical oration of the states
man, they more readily comprehend the meaning
of the text, and consequently analyze its' construc
tion with accuracy.
5. They write better compositions, using better
language. cortaining more thoughts, more dearly
and ennnecteilly expressed.
6. These oung men who heye for years been
readers of the newspapers, are always taking the
lead in the debating society. exhibiting Amore ex
tensive kilo% ledge upon • greater variety of sub.
jerta, and expressing their views with greater flu
ency, dearness and correctness in the use of lan
guage.
A BEAUTIFUL FUNERAL.—A recent let
ter from Acapulco. thus describes the fu
neral of two sisters—beautiful girls of
18 and 20 years. They were carried
to the grave in the evening, aide by aide.
in an open funeral car, in elegant dresses
which they had made with their own hands
for the Spanish ball which was to have ta
ken place on the evening of their burial.
The car in which the corpse lay was splen
didly decorated—rising above the heads
of each a beautifully gilded crown, and at
their feet gilded ornamental work repre
senting two half moons. to their hands,
which were locked together in the attitude
of prayer, they had bouquets of flowers,
and their brows were encircled with
wreaths of roses. The faces of the young
girls were uncovered; hut, partly conceal
ing their magnificent dresses, was thrown
over them a richly-worked lace veil, cover
ed almost completely with offerings of
flowers, while their tiny feet, encased its
plum colored silk stockings and satin laced
shoes, were slightly exposed to view.—
'rlie case was borne on the shoulders of
twelve negroes ; following them six oth
ers, with the hip of the burial ease ; and
following the latter still, six others with a
table
,upon which the car was set down in
the street at intervals. A band of music,
playing a lively tune, preceded the cortege.
and 111110111 the whole city saw them plac
ed in the tomb, and chanted over them
the solemn burial service of the Catholic
Church.
A "hard case" watt interrogated then:h
er day, by a friend, who had just
s seen him
at church, but found him swallowing a
glass of brandy and water at a public bar•
room, thus; I saw you at church this
moruing, listening very attentively to the
dischurse, how comes it tLat I now see
you here drinking I ..1 always thirst af
ter righteousness," was the answer.
The Portland Transcript has an amn
ling correspondent, who lately relieved
himself of the following play on word.
"1 cameo beano we a beer
Beardawa apse a Wet
When bap at hair he strips the hare, .
Par be& 1 ery—rodeerl
“ What tild you give for that horse. neigh
bor T” ••My now!" ••Well, that was
cheap!" •
orEARLDBB AND FREE."
Getting a Subscriber.
Tired and fatigued from a long day's
ride, covered with the dust we had gather.
ed on a dry, sandy road, we called at Squire
Robb's to wet our mouths . . rest our hones.
and have a chat with the Squire. On our
part, however, there was a disposition
very soon to talk less and doze more.—
This, Elohbs, a good natured soul, per.
calved as by intuition, and soon left us to
the soft influences of nature's •sweet re
storer."
Now, how long we slept we needn't
tell, and our readers needn't know. It
wasn't long, however, for the loud talking
in the Squire's office soon aroused us, and
we listened to a conversation highly in
teresting to us. It seemed that Joactirn
Gulic—Old Joe—a clever, sober, close
fisted neighbor of the Squire's, had called
in to talk about "the crops," and matters
and things in general.
"Well, Squire," said Mr. Guile, "do
you know where a fellow can buy a right
smart chance Ma niggar boy these times 1"
"Really, uncle Joe 1 don't know at this
time. There was a sale in town last
week of some six or eight at one time."
"There was ?"
'Yes. And I got a right likely negro
boy eighteen years old, fur 8450. My
word for it, I wouldn't take a thousand
dollar him to-day."
"Jus my luck. Why I never heard a
word of it. Who told you, Squire?"
"0, you know I take the paper. I saw
the sale advertised, and as I had to go to
town anyhow, I went on the day of sale,
thinking perhaps I might hit a bargain,
and I did hit one, sure."
“Well. I swear, I have got to have a
hand somehow. You see, I have put in
more than I have hands to work. Who's
got a hand to hire, any wl eres about ?”
"You're too hard for me again. Uncle
Joe ; the hiring season is over. About a
mraith ago sill the negroes belonging to
the estate of El-, deceased, were let
at auction ; and I'm told they went very
low."
"The ti—l. You don't sap,• --Why
didn't you tell me. Squire ?"
"I hardly know why. I saw it adver
tised in our paper, and I supposed every
body took that. More'n that, I didn't
know you wanted to hire. Did you know
I sold my Harden tract of land !"
"No! Who to?"
"Why, to a rich old fellow—from Ala
bama. It was day before yesterday ; and
I got the 'yellow boys' cash up—only six
dollars per acre. lie said that he came
across our paper in .Old Alabama;' he
liked the description of the eountry.; saw
my wee hit of an advertisement. and came
to see about it. We struck a trade in no
time."
"Jerusalem! And here I've been try
ing to sell a tract of land for the last two
years and couldn't get a dollar and a half
an acre. It better hoot than vourn, too,
and you know it, Squire. Well, what is
'tis, and can't ba but I reckon, I've
heat you on sugar. I bought, last week.
two barrels of sugar at six cents, when
everybody else had to give seven cents.—
Beat that, eh?"
.•With all ease, uncle Joe—l bought
mine at five cents."
"No. sir—l don't believe it. Now, say
where 1"
"At the house of W— & Co. I got
a rare bargain. You see they advertised
in the paper that they were selling off at
cost. I knew groceries would go quick,
so I went in and bought a year's supply.
Their groceries were nil sold before night.
I didn't pay the money, either, for they
took my United States Land warrant at
•l 50 per acre."
"Now, now, Squire! that Can't be, for
my lawyer told me that it wasn't legal to
sell my land w aaaa nt."
"Very true, some time ago; but the
news came lately in the paper that Con
gress had made them assignable."
"Well, %kn i t fair! it's !sanity ! What
right have these editors to get all the news
and keep it to themselves r
"Ah, uncle Yoe, you m sunderstand it.
Editors and printers labor night and day
to gather news and give them to the peo
ple—to instruct their readers--to inform
them of all the improvements of the age,
and to ameliorate the condition of society.
Their paper goes abroad, rerominentling
our people and country to interested and
intelligent emigrants. Can they labor
thus for nothing Should they not be
paid? Is there a man Will is not bone
fitted by a paper? Is not every subscri.
her repaid four fold for the pittance of $2,
his subscription price ?"
"Stop. Squire ! stop right there ! I'm
going to take the paper. take six, and
send some back to my kinsfolk. in Geor
gia."
"Well, Uncle Joe, the printing-office is
close at hand; come. and I will introduce
you
.to the editor."
Here the parties rushed in upon us,
where we were acting out rsost admirable•
a person fast asleep. It is enough for us
to say, that after an introduction, the name
of Joacum Gitlin was entered upon our
note book as a subscriber—ptid in advance.
And now, when the parties alluded to
shall, read this we hope they will pardon
us forgiving to the pnblic the substantial
facts used by the Squire—aiding us so ef
fectually in "Getling,a Sudscribtr."
FALL PRUNINO.—An agricultural paper
informs its reader. that Fdl pruning is
n t l
decidedly the best, as experience 4 a am.
ply proven. The limbs will hea over
more readily. If your orchird is , and
the trees "hide-hound," plougli up and
manure liberally—scrape atills-solipautl
your trees, and observe the difference in
the size and quality of ysur fruit next
year.
An entirely new feature ma introduced
at an Agricultural fair held it Batavia, N.
Y. Nine fair equestriennes; attended by
their cavillers, entered the ritg. and com.
pitied far. die •honurs awartlttl to the best
horsemanship. The first psse was a ail-
Set cup.
Avoid all harshness of belaviour; weal
every one with that courtesy *lush springs
Iron a mild aid geniis heart
grizzly Bear of Calllbrada. Tobacco Juice and Tobacco
One of the greatest attraction, at the Quid.%
just think there's nought
late Ohio State Fair. was a large Grizzly And then, my friends,
Bear front Life Pacific coast, weighing
The B fi x a r h ee t d h s a ' t from the chewer s mouth proceeds
nearly two thousand pounds. The Cleve. Two ounces thawed a day. ,
ie said, reduce I
land Plain Dealer gives the subjoined in- A half a pint of vile tobacco juice,
teresting sketch of the personal history Which, if continued five and twenty years,
of bruin, which will be found of inter. , (As from a calculation it appears.)
With this fitul stuff would near five hogsheads fill,
eat : Besides old quids--a larger portion still.
All recollect the 'Big Bear' story with IVor sin I with this calculation done:
the California papers were tilled which last H e that i n l i me has chewe d a half a tuu _.,
winter. So many big stories are told of . A wagon load—of that which would of course
that big country, that our Atlantic readers Sicken a dog, maven kill a horse,
I are puzzled to Could he fame, but st singte view.know how much to believe. I
What ho was destined in his life to chew,
! But for that big bear rtory we ask no con. !
And the product of his work survey,
,
firmatory proof. We have seen the identi- He would grow sick and throw his quid sway ;
cal critter, ant: of all wild monsters we ,Or could the lass, ere she was pledged to be
have ever seen, he is the wildest. hugliest,! Him loving wife, her future prospect see--
Could she but know that through this mouth would
and moat terrible to look at. - His actual
weight is over 1,700 pounds, and his
fn this short
length, breadth, collar, columns , alias le life, this dirt In !ha me mass ,
g I Would alt, cotter' tit to tak Y e . his a h sa n d for life,
when stanking upon his pegs, strike YOU I And wedded to his filth, hecotne Itie wife!
with terror, at his savage proportions.— And if she would, say, where's the pretty miss
'Fite beers we have seen in caravans, That envier , her the lips she has toki.s
catight when cubs, and drawn about in ! Nor is this all. This dirty practice leads
haits,to le dees.
carriages, are stunted dwarfs compared!
with him. lie was taken in the full prime! Crest ig es a thirst this pdb i san it d b filthy d
or
of life, add after having acquired his full I Fall many a one, (who envies him his lot 1)
size, in a country unmolested by white smokes, and cheteri, end drinki,sitil dies a sot.
men, and where venison was plenty. He If you would know the deeds of him that chewy,
Enter the house of fleet, and see the pews, •
WWI, no doubt, one of the 'First Families'
in his native co u ntry, if not a monarch in I The
Fbe chim ne y parlor, ti " te
and ld s o f the r
the land. lie joined Barnum's elephant ; eve all, y tu p : c i e , '
humbug some weeks ago, as a side show,! seen well, braid° a curtain bed
and all who maw hint protested against die ! Of one who cheme tobacco, near the head,
arrangement, as he was the chief attraction Bedaubed sod blarknned with this hateful juice,
While near it lay old quids for Mime use.
of the whole concern, and it was resolved
I've seen the woman ult., loved snu ff so well
to give hint a leading position and let the (How mud ,
she took
no
modal ton gue
could
elephants come in behind, nr part company I P ick up „Id quids am? dry them torthe fire,
altogether. And grind them up to satiate her desire.
I:ve seen the bride upon her wedding coven
The story of his capture is interesting.
% A lie d di k rty pipe and tidily %%red Ma down,
We have it Irmo Mr. Bartholomew, the.
en prelnrn the hateful thin; to eutwke,
gentleman who captured him. Mr. B. Bef re she had the
has spent some years in California, had And, like s daughter tru P e, or mother E‘e,
seen and helped to kill many n big bear, Her new made husband she did not conceive
but happening one day to come across this I Was constituted held, and not it limb.
fellow's track, he judged by his size and She smoked herself. then a.v. , the pipe to him,
: ttitt he, like Adam, in auhtuisaion true,
indentation that he must be a monster.—
r ook from her hand the pipe, and smoked it, too .
He lived in the valley of the Sacramento,
and occasionally his rows would stray to
lid- bottom to teed. It was in pursuit of
them he first saw the hear. Accustomed as
lie was to hunting and peril, his Itairstood
on end when he got a lull view of his
giant proportiotta.-- -But -he had a good
rifle and was mounted on a fleet horse,
which gave him courage enough to shoot ;
but the report and not the bullet disturbed
Bruin,. and he disappeared in die thicket.
Mr. IL, who of course is a Yankee, con
ceived the idea of entrapping him, and
bringing Itiin to the United States for
show, which adventure he actually accom
plished in the following manner:
He took a new, stout, emigrant lumber
wagon, Made a long and high rage upon it.
with iron rods at the side and sheated
over the top a n d bottom with sheet iron.
lie fixed the after end so that it would
slim down with a slide, and thus aecouired
took it near the haunt of the tear, and
suitk its hind wheels so as to bring the
bottom 01 the cage on a line wilts the
ground. lie then raised the hind end
board, attached to it a spring of a 'figure
four,' Intik on the trip of-tl , e cage, and eon
nected with a fresh piece of venison inside.
He then took a fresh deer's hide and drew
it from within the cage some half mile
into die woods for the hear to take scent.
The next morning as soon as light lie
rode to the spot, but long before he came
to the opening where the trap was set, and
before he could see the bear, he could hear
the wagon rattle and the raving of the ani
mal within. lie rode up to within a few
rods, before bruin saw bun, so intent was he
on escaping ; but when he did get his eyes
on his captor, 'de rushed toward him with
a terrible howl. and thrust his paws through
the gates with such force as to nearly upset
the wagon. Fur ten days and nights the
hunter stayed by him, the bear incessantly
gnawing the cage. He had broken all
his front teeth on the iron covering within.
The hunter now saw that his game would
he lost, unless he conld disable him from
his incessant and preserving labor to be
Iree.
A cruel experiment was restored to.—
Ho would heat iron bare and thrust them
into his cage, which the besr would take
in his paws and hold them till the blood
from the burn would sits. In this way
poor Bruin was beaten, as his feet became
so sore that he was glad to lie down and
let his master double the bars around him.
In this condition he was taken to Seers
memo. shipped to San Francisco, and
from there to the Isthmus across the Ni
caragua route. He was the first !rotten -
ger that ever crossed that route on wheels,
and the natives wondered much more at
the Yankee wagon titan at the California
bear.
PLANTING POTATOES IN TH4 FALL.-
The Working Farmer says, ••Our neigh
bor T. R•:ddte, lE4q.. says that he has had
potatoes which were left in the ground in
the fall, for two years past, that have pro
nounced ntly well. The produce
was large and good. Ile thinks it a good
plan and one that will be inure ibccesful
than any other. especially on light iantl..
The seed should be placed at least a lout
below the surface ."—We think a foot
is too deep. Let them be well bedded in
horse manure, and eight inches depth will
be enough. A covering of straw, nr almost
any refuse stuff, upon the ground, would
keep them from freesing.—Getmentoton
Telegraph!
Old Thomas Fuller. who was a very
lively writer, but rather addicted to pun.
ulna, was occasionally repaid his pun,
with interest. He was exceedingly corpu
lent, mid as lie was out riding with a friend
named Sparrowhawk, he could not resist
the opportunity of cracking a joke upon
him. ' , What is the difference between an
owl and a Sparrow-hawk ?" asked he.—
"An owl is fuller in the head, fuller in
the body, and fuller all over," replied his
friend. •
In one of the counties in. Wisconsin,
John M. Root is the Democratic. Robert
Hoge the Free• Soil. and Thomas H. Dye
The Whig candidate for the Legisistitre.—
The people there will have to •• Root Nog
Or me is their Representative.
Slaver, In Cuba.
The Tribune says of shivery in Cubs,
that ••in spite of treaties and prohibitions,
the slave trade still flourishes. and forms a
rich source of iucomu for the Spaisislt
rings whit share oultrectiv in its
Some weeks since 5110 negroes were die.
embarked at Ortagoesa. mei Catiftilo. the
Captain General pork. tint! $34 per bead
fur eonniving at the net. No wonder the
Cubans desire to he freed from a govern
ment which adds to perfect desplatism such
corruption as :his. An intelligent German.
who recently visited the Island, says that
slaves there are taken care of about as well
as wiurk horses in Europe. Marriage Is
unanown among them. They are without
all religious or mental instruction. Every
year the priest baptizes the whole lot of
eluldren born en the plantathm, and on
Sunday afternoons they are made to say an
Ave Maria, the cued, nod a pater nosier
They , al ways work with an overseer stand,
log over them with n heavy whip. The
lowest overseers ate themselves slaves, and
have the right to inflict twenty-five blows.
a punishme n t which results in several
days' illness. You find no slave who has
not been punished. and even men of four
score are met with who s tilt have to sub
mit to the scourge. 'flue women are flog
ged by their husbands in the presence of
the head overseer.
At .10 in the morning the oxen of the
plantation are driven under shelter from
the heat. But the slaves continue to work
without interruption through the day.—
They are also kept late at night. On some
plantationa they are highly favored if they
are allowed 1.11 sleep two whole nights in a
week. The master is not allowed to in
flict the punishment of death, but in ease
of greut crimes must hand the slave over
to the authorities, and may renounce his
property in the negro which relieves hint
(ruin responsibility tor ennui trial, foodolte.
But this is almost never done. Useless
and incorrigible negroes are got rid of "in
a more simple way without troubling the
authorities. Prostitution is universal on
the plantation, beginning at the age of 10.
Hot the woman who hue a mulatto child is
liable to fifty blows of the whip.
At 0 o'clock in the evening all the slaves
who are not destined to night work, are
shut up by families in stalls where they
sleep on boards.. Each family has a pig
to fatten, and a little piece of land which
is cultivated on Sunday afternoons. Every
slave receives yearly two suits of linen,
blanket and a woolen cap. Bread they do
not receive ; but have three rations daily
of bananas, mangoes, sweet potatoes, corm
dried fish and dried beef, whi c h is kir port
ed from Buenos Ayres.
The freedom of an unborn child can he
Sought for twenty-five dollars, and fathers
often adopt this way of emancipating their
children. Many slaves escape Into the
mountains t such are exposed to the pot.-
suit of bloodhounds, and also betrayed
by vultures hovering over their place of
refuge."
. _
DANORR or SLEEPING IN CHURCH.—In
ono of our churches, an old 'gentleman, a
worthy member of the Christian -persua
sion. fell asleep, and began dreaming that
he was on a hunting excursion. All of a
sudden, and ni the astonishment of every
body, lie bellowed ont:—+•Fetch him in,
Dash! a glorious shin! three woodcocks
with one barrel I—Hurrah for me !" and
he rose up in bis seat and cheered lustily.
He woke himself by his hallooing, and im.
meniately seized his hat and walked out
blushing like a red pepper.—Cincinnaii
Commercial.
13Lnitioue VIER lioß Tint LADISB.--in
the reign of Queen Margaret of Scotland.
the Parliament putted an act that any
maiden lady of high or low degree should
have the liberty to dhose for a husband the
man on whom 'she set her fancy. If a
man refused to marry her. he was hesivily,
fined, according to the value of his ,world.
ly possessions. The ouly ground of ett
entption was previous hetrotlial.
If you molt to drive * out nail Ann ►teas•
need oak timber. ;mil not have it break or
bend. just barna little oil nearby. and dip
the cud of the nail into it Whore dritiiiip
and it 9
ill niter fail to go. '
Two Dor.f.Alks PElt itiotrivsl.
INDIBER 36.
Flied Fa ct s Agilaillure.
. .
—I. All lander:bit-Which clover, or the.
grasses are grown,. must either hare lime
in them naturally. or that twineral most
be artificially supplied. homier, hut lit•
tie. whether it be stipplied the fitrm ttf
stone-lime, oyster-shell, or marl. -
2. All permanent impro'vement of lead
must look to lime as its blisis.
8. Lamle which have been in long cul
ture will be benefitted by appiicetion % or
phosphate of lime, and it is unimportant.
whether the deficiency be impidied in the,
form of bone-dust, guano, native phosphate
of lime, compost, or fish, eshes,—or in that
of oysters shell-lime-4n marl--8t the lead
needs liming. also. - • •
4. No lands can be preserved in a high
state of fertility, unless clover end the.
grasses are cultivated in the course of ro •
tenon.
5. Mould is indispensible in every wig.
—and a healthy supply can alone be pre
served through the cultivation or clover
and the grasses, the turning ofgreen crops;
or by the application of compost rich , itt
the elements of mould.
6. All highly concentrated ;Mina)
manures are increased in value. and g u ar
benefits prolonged by admixture with phis-,
ter, salt orpulverised . charcoal.
7: Deep ploughing greatly ienTlieires the .
productive powers'of every variety 41' deg.
that is not wet.'
8. Sub-soilincsoundiand. that is, land
that is not wet, is timinehtly conducive, to
kite reused production.
9. All, wet lambi ihoold he drained.
10. All grail' crops should be harvested
from 7 to 10 days before the groin is thui
oughly ripe.
11. Clover, SS well as the grasstes. in
tended for hay, should be monied when its
bloom.
12. Sandy land can be most effeetually
improved by clay. When such lends re
quire liming, or marling. the lime or marl
is inott beneficially applied, when made
into compost with clay. In clucking lime,
Gall brine is better than water.'
.
13. The chopping and grinding of
grain to be fed to stock, operates
baring of at least twenty•five per , cent.,
14. Draining of wet lands, end Marshes.
adds to the value by making them.prothice
more and better crops, by ptedste 4 lifi 'them
(sorbet. soul by — improving the health of
neighborhoods. - -- •
In, To manure or lime wet lands, Is to
throw inabure. lime mid labor away.
10. Shallow ploughing operates to im.
prove the soil, while it decreases in protlue.
tion.
Ft By stabling and shedding stook
through_ the winter, a saving nl onilourth
of the thind may be effected : that is, one
fourth less food will answer then when
such emelt may be exposed to the indent..
uncles of the weather.
28. A bushel of plaster per acre, sown
broad cast over thu clover, will add lOU
per rent, to its produce.
10.
tend to keep up the integrity ul soils by
supplying most, if not all, of the inorganic
substances.
20. Thorough preparation of lend
solutely necessary to the ativeestdul and
luxuriant growth of crops.
21.
,Abundant crops cannot he grown for
a succ ession of years, unless mire be whet
to provide and apply an equivalent for thg
substances carried off the land in the Pro
ducts grown thereon.
22. To preserve meadows in their pro
ductiveness it is necessary to harrow th e m
every second 'elm% apply top ilnnosing
and roll them.
23. All stiff clays are benefited by
fall and winter pinogluops, but ehould
never be plowed while they ere
If, at such ploughings, the furrow he mate: .
Holly deepened, lime, marl or ashes elseMlil
be applied.
24. Young stock should be moderinely
fed with grain in the winter. and rejoice
generous supplies of long provender. it
being essential to keep them in fair comb
twit, in order that the formation of
hones, ilka g may be encouraged . and enn
tinuonale carried on.
25. Mitch cows, in winter,. should fat
kept in dry, moderately warm, hut welt
veutillated quarters ; be regularly led and
watered three times a day, salted t vice or
thrice a week, have dean beds. he eurried
daily, and in addition to their, long moven-.
der, they should receive imetsubtot food
morning and evening.
26. Full eomplesnente of tools.. and
implements of litishanday, mire tittimittek
connected with the success of the husbuini•
27. Capital it not only nacos:tory toga. ,
ricultural success, but can be as profitably •
used in farming as in any nihor nottupation.,
28. Punctuality in engagelllolll4,
necessary, to an agriculturalist as it is 1011
29. Every hushandinan should carefully
read and digest mutters conitec4d with los
~
business ; his success being as dependent
ripen a full knowledge Or tie Oritteildee, and
details, as is that at the lawyer or Pltysi
ciait,-with a knowledge of the .seience of
law or physic. . • ' •
30. Wheat. rye. oats, and barley Ailiohltt
never follow each other in a 'course . , of rip._
indult ;'there should alwoys be
-iii Ititer
vening hoe-crop between theta.
31. IVeeds should never l partnitted
lumina° their seed on a f:trin.' hoI be
,
ed up or cut down as often wr they she*:
the east:lves, such, being the only' eitecittat
toadied to eradicating them, reunite
this result the ground shook) t» planted ib
corn, and t h ut kept clean.
32. Titne uud labor tiavoted to thi exit.
leutitto of tn:ttartals to be I •ibiteeel 6 4.
motioro. ore tint nutet trutiful *oitreeto
!trot's, in the torhals rung* of' 1311111..
only:
• 33. Tho orotund. to be proohlellye fvf
good. fair knit. regains* 1 0 1 he &A al moth
as does a istil of grain. • The Ot Beak '
requires *soothe substances. alistrartat# by
the crops shall by unloved. 'rho, .rote .
,hb o tg h e ,kept slum. and open to tint reilY.
'inviting influence of the soh. the thns hi thili
rain. and the air. The Istrk of that Win,
slunild he kept in si hanhbfui tiontlitlee
gimping, win, imnionsenty. sad bylaw
line washing.
:!Emi