TA E D, • . / _ _ MO I MAI g I __. _ I nami 4L-10.111"11.1.111111.1.11r— & C. H. BUEHLER. "11 „.. sais i m onvue ..ama.Mn BY D. A VOLUME XXIV. i sit B IN EB,II.II.IwNTANRE' 1100 , GErrys 13 IT It I:, P A. A NKFUI. for the liberal patron _lL age heretofore extended to him the subscriber would respectfully inform his old customers and the public generally, that he still continuos to manufacture every variety of HOUSEHOLD FURNITURE, at his Old Establishment, in South Balti more street, Revolt(' square, a few doors faith of tli “4TAR" printing office Gettysburg. He will have on band, for sale, and will constantly be prepared to manufaettire, from the very best of mate rials, Sifus nt the rate of from *2O to $5O ; I , s lE Centre, Card, Pier, Sub', Toilet. Dining iii"nd Break last TA BLFS"; Dressing Bureaus of every description : French Ileadsteads, Was It stand Wardrobes, Secretaries, Book-Oases; Pedestals or Sideboards, Piano Stools, Ladies' ‘Vaslistands, Reel ini ing Chairs, Lounges, Tudoretts, &r., whieii for neatness, durability and [wilily 41'1111.h, cannot lie surpassed by any in ihe cootory. zt€4l.l'ep , nis wodling good and cheap it: ti 1.7 It F Watilli 111) uVII n give him a call bcliirc purchasing else w here. eoffino. Ile is alsn manufacture til (lion, A III•Wa Ile lin , mt told solistaiontl lieststi. and is p, - t•pared to in town :mil rutin y al tli te.t notice. All kinds of w..rk uotde to ”nlyr, and ‘r rranu•d to In the be.t a•orkntan like mylo. l F.U.IiIIIN(:\IA N. Gent . sim IT, .1111 v 22, 11153.-0. AN I MIN I STOCK uF [l\J Th , !.l\,/ 'L':' ..0 1J ii S J most from he tit 1.. St'111('I I; just nrriveil from pp • s‘iti, :Ili nu n:rune ninrl; n! AND \IIVIT.It (;(11)DS, “it ,r• At e,r, wy I,•dio•tal utter: ~C ry ariirle its the : 4 iapit• boo roh.3. Cloud:, line. embracing all the 1,1•111 l:, %%lid ahr-h•iisciit-ss tirt• rarely if I , Cr rats rnumer iii hut a por tion within the limits of an ailvertnwinent to wit: O.:idles" Drew+ 1:4)()111. Filch Silks :old Sillies. Fume Nleri- Does. Part:licit and Coburg Al p iccasi I) It and r'aln Lames, Sia•li Gul l :- II Lies, Collars, 11. toi l Clicinisettes, hives an d st.wking,, Combs, Laces and E.lg• logs, liiiinecits, e. For Gentlemen's \Vear, Cloths, f'as.ompres, Ca4sinette, Jeans, Cords, a spirtolol lot of Vestiogs, Crarars, andkerelitel Mrrinu. Shams awl Drawers. &e. r 7-Thank i I tor past favors, he solicits a eontintootre of patronage. Ilia goods Lave been selected with ca're, and he flat ters himself will r.lenj.a. Ills motto is— A.Small profits and ktiait sales." BOOKS ; STATIONERY sasteu GOODS. One price—and that as low as at any Elstablishment out of the City. S. 6{l. Ii3UERLER, I~ETURNS his acknowldegments to hie friends for the long continued and liberal patronage extended him, and invites attention to his present largely in creased stock Of goods just received (ruin Philadelphia and New York. lie deems it unnecessary to enulnerate the assort ment, which will be found to embrace every variety of goods in his line, viz : Classical, Theological, School, Miscellancous Oa BOOKS and Stationery of all kinds, embracing, as he believes, the largest and best assortment ever opened in Gettysburg. He also invites attention to his large supply of FANCY GOODS, embracing Gold and Silver pens and Pen cils, Pen• Knives, Plain and Fancy Note Paper and Envelopes, Motto Wafers, Sealing Wax, Portmoneaus, Soaps, Per fumery, &c., &c.—all of which will be sold at the p VERY LOWEST RATES..O. loCreall and examine for yourselves at the old established BOOK & DRUG store in Chambersburg street, a few doors from the diammid. S. It. BUEHLER Getlyeburg,,Pa., Oct. 21, 1859. NEW GOODS. rrHE eubscriber has jut opened a fresh IL supply of Seasonable Goods comprising a general assortment of Staple and Itiney Dry Goods, to which the early and partioular attention of persons Wanting ohesp-goods is again nip:dully April 22, 1853. D. MIDDLV,COFF. [ From the Home Journal THE STAIN ON THE LILY. A STOItY OP TO-DA Y . BY THE AUTHOIt OF "TILE JEWELED HAND." I have occasion in particular to remem ber my moreig visits to the Boston Attic- muum Gallery two winters ago. For the quiet happiness I ever found there,l couldl never think of the place but with pleasure.', To me it is, and has ever been, a charmed retreat. To go in there after a walk down the great fashionable promenade, Washing- ' ton street, to find myself at once removed from the noise and bustle of the great city, impresses me strangely, and I enjoy it with a peculiar kind of happiness. The moment I enter the building I fed the influence of the place stealing over me. The rever beration of my footsteps up the bronzed and spacious stairs, as it goes singing and echoing with a hollow, musical tone along the corridors, and off through lofty and distant rooms, scents to me almost a pro latmion. Once within those pictured gal leries, I could never forget the solemn still ness—tint strange and dreamy atmosphere of the place. A feeling which I, cannot define, creeps over me—l feel away front the world—not in or of it—and such seems to be the feeling of Illally wh•ut I have chaneed to !met there. Awl this brings ' are to the pectiliar interest which I tittaelt to that si ason at the Athenaeum. Some : times turning from the picture, my eyes w o u ld enviously strut inize t he countenances !of th,,c like inysell lingerers there, and in S.lllO 10110 Vi,riwr I his 1 . 11 t.. s i t utdSpeen t late upon their probable characters and bi,t.oi•'s. Il ar.lly c , mittion euri,isity could 11,1% • dr:: w do. them thither.— Possiltd% that pile, 41,1i , :0c1y - feuturvd man , art i-d—perhaps he has a life interest j iii s.•uu• picture on these walls ; that dark s yi illbut-I , .king girl, taking the mea sure he figures in that tine painting by Weir, is evidently one. That picture— the m e n tio n of it has recallitil distinctly its every feature to my reeollection—the interior ot• au In Ilan cabin, very dim and Husky, an English soldier sitting by the door, on a log, his back towards you, and, I before him, standim , silent and inotionleipt, an looking down into the face of his captor, pleadingly. appealingly, and p riot mg to a wi 'man of his own race, sit- TM : , oil the cal,in floor, her elbow resting upon her hip, her head bowed upon her . hands, eyes which her long. straight hair j had failt:n, emu eating her face ; but tho' you s. it nor, the attitude give you a s..n-e of her dccp and mute despair. The picture is remarkable, even to the most minute—the very grain of the log Jews distinetly where it has been cut off ' —the withered kayos upon the floor sacra S have hero just drifted in l.y the autumn 1111, mot you fancy them to be rustling I yet. One day, passing, into the dim recess %%here hung l'ole's great picture, I found my-elf intruding upon a pair who stood there iti conversation. They must have been half an hour in the same place, for no one had passed the during that time, and they remained as long after, so perfectly absorbed in each other as to be altogether reardless of ethers entering the room.— Many a one I observed, like myself, re garding with an admiring eye, the woman who, unsconsciously to herself, stood in sue!) a position that her whole face and figure were in distinct light, while all be yond was obscure. And surely no pictured ou the walls equalled the ex coediug beauty of that woman. She must have en twenty-seven, tall, full in form, an English figure, with a face faultless in its outline, complexion and features. Nev ;er wi ve beauty, grace amt softness so sweet 'ly and harmoniously blended. Soft, lair hair waoirranged in glossy, lustrous waves, giving the exquisite lines of her forehead, and thou disposed in rippling curls, shading away from the fair oval - of her cheek.— Iler features were perfect, with a kind of finish that is rarely seen ; the expression alone troubled me ; there was—mot guilt shall I say—ah ! it was the consciousness of it, at least, in the deep, dark, brooding, ibeautiful eyes, in the passion-breathing lines of the mouth, and guilt alone could have brought to that soft cheek the spot of fiery red growing more fiercely, richly bril hint every moment—the fever spot of the heart's unrest. There was a fascination in the very pre sence of that magnificent creature, which held my soul in thrall. I have ever been an enthusiast in my admiration of beauty. I have drunk in the very light of the dark eye—l have watched each motion of beau ty and grace, till my senses have been car tied away as by enchantment. In the love liness of woman, and the beauty of flowers, have I found a charm that bound tue ever. The woman who stood before toe was beautiful as Cleopatra—not that Cleopatra whose clear, pale countenance, far too lit• tie earthly; looked sinless and passionless from the pictured walls—nor yet her, the voluptuous Egyptian queen, sorceress by her beauty and her blandishments, "Whose chains A rour t id three conquerors of the world were cast," but Cleopatra iu her softness and her fas cination, in all the charm of her eastern loveliness. When I first looked, she was standing firm, self-controlled and motionless. Wild ly as must have throbbed her passionate heart, not a fold of her garment was sha ken. The rich furs, wrapped about her neck, and falling down the front of her black velvet cloak, lay as motionless over the guilty breast as the pure folds that veil the peaceful bosom of the nun. There was not a flutter of the ribbon which fastened beneath the delicately moulded chin, that dainty velvet bonnet, shaped like the cup of a flower, and setting off so beautifully the brilliant fife beneath it— not $ stir of the heavy and lustrous fringes of her cloak—not a rustle of the silvery gray, shining, silken folds falling amply to her feet. But one movement betrayed ; she eautraally drew the glove from one small white hand, looking smaller, whiter, more dilute still from the rich and hea vy bord•;ring of fur at the wrist. As ahn did so, I saw on one of the slender and GETTYSBURG, PA., FRIDAY EV beautiful fingers a wedding-ring ;as the I golden circlet caught her eyes, they grew moist, and guiltily sought the floor ; the lines of her tine mouth quivered, and on, her cheek the fiery spot grow more pall fully bright. Then, for the first time, I distinctly saw her companion—a man whose very dress gave one an impression of luxurious and expensive tastes—of something origin al, setting common fashions at defiance.— ic wore a riding-cap of peculiar and taste r , ful form, a loose heavy wrapper, edged round with expensive furs, trimmed away' ' in front and showing a brilliant crimson ; velvet vest, which, singular and theatri-1 cal as it might seem on any other, appear cd hardly out of place for him, its glowing , hue throwing a bright colour, like a rich' wine flush, upon his otherwise pale cheek. It was a face not easily described—that of a man whose life had been full to the, brim of unhappiness. I have seen him re peatedly since, when he held a large as- 1 , sembly chained by his magic eloquence— I have seen him in rehearsals of the finest poems-1 have seen his forced smile— have watched his assumed happiness, and ' there was mockery and bitterness in it all —a cool, calm, contemptuous bitterness ' against the world ; yet there was self. re liance, self-control, silent power in that faee. Once I remembered to have read the story of 31 on t e Christo," and us I' first looked upon this man, I scorned to see ; embodied the feelings of hint as he came back to his native land—the land of his, imprisonment—the laud where his be trothed had proved false to hint—his friend betrayed hint—the land where his father l dic:l of hunger. tine cannot read that strange and remarkable fiction without form tug some receipt ion of the man whose career gives to it its title mid interest. In descending the stair, I again encoun tore(' this singular pair. I saw the gen tleman hand her into an elegant sleigh, whose impatient horses wt.re pawing the, pavement when I passed them an hour be fore. Without a word he drew the rich robes around her, and the attendant who had stood waitin: , for his mistress, drove rapidly away. iler companion' re-entered the building. Long after, in the silent gallery, where pale forms of sculpture seem to look reprovingly down upon the intruder into their still sanctuary, I again saw him. Ile was reclining against a pedestal, regardless of anyt hMg around.- 1 thought a smile of melancholy, remorse ful triumph, was on his lips. Ile had ' muffled the heavy furs about his person, and from out of them, and beneath his dark rap, his Ewe lookell lividly white— ghastly beyond deseripti:th—overy line marked by terribl,t, hut untold suffering, and over all such a 'weary, weary look—a look as of one who had debased a great mind and heart, acd was suffering the keen and bitter gnawings of self-reproach , for his voluntary abasement—a look of tine who had sitmed—who must forever suffer, and lunged] to be at rest. Such was Lud low II The day after this chance meeting, I spent with a friend, at her house, in the most picturesge part of romantic Roxbury. From my seat by a western window, toy eye had eonstantly in view an elegant oo un try-seat on a slight elevation, distant but a few rods, and surrounded by a park-like enclosure dotted over with groups of fine trees, among which wound a broad car riage drive to the foot of the std he steps leading up to the entrance. In the bow window opposite to the one where I sat, I could easily see rich and warm-hued flow ers, their brilliant tints showing beautiful ly in contrast to the stainless white of the snow without. Above the flowers, gold en-hued birds fluttered their shining wings in the sunlight; and, more beautiful than flower or.herd, the lustrous ringlets of a childs's bright head, would glance among the plants, taking a gleam of sunshine, and disappear. Once the child, a fair and fairy girl, came daintily dancing out into the porch, followed by a large Newfound land dog, that she chased up and down the steps ; while clear, sweet laughter would coma ringing out on the still wintry air, and float like causio's echo over the garden. The little twinkling feet, fairy small and daintily sandaled, would dance over the marble pavement, more airily than any thing I ever saw—like nothing but the graceful motion of a bird in air, or the float ing of the butterfly's radiant wing. Then the sun went down behind the house—the child disappeared within, and gloom seem ed to settle over the place. The gray buildings looked dusky against the bur nished sky—the evergreens grew black as night clouds, burying the garden in shade. I well recollect that I satin the twilight, weaving for myself a golden romance for the dwellers in that magnificent home ; and as the Vrkness deepened, and through the large windows, all aglow with light from within, I could see sunny pictures on the walls, and as the figure of a woman would cross the light, may romance would grow more beautiful and bright. It seemed my dreams were none too happy. 1. asked who lived there. "Mr. Hamlin, who does business in town—the finest man in the world. His wife is the most beautiful woman I ever saw, and they have one lovely child.— They have everything that heart can wish, and are incomparably happy. Ev erything about them is in perfect taste and order, and they enjoy it all. I never fiaw such a family—l never saw such hap piness." Now, my reader, must really be the com mencement of nay story. Albert Ham lie's wife was the woman I met at the A thenteum. After a day of fatiguing business and anxious (aro, Albert Hamlin left his count ing-room—loft there those oases', his light ened heart springing joyously . to his home —to that home for whose quiet happiness ho had yearned in the years when no home awaited him—for whom: , happiness he had been all , thbse years pro Paring. And in its glad welcome he ` asi never been disap pointed. He knolv,ever7 night as he went up the steps, that the sweet smile of his young wifkand fairy child awaited him. They were never away when he "came AID 40t , A., home—never indifferent to his coming ; ho could never surprise them,'and now, as his foot touched the pavement, the door opened wide, and they came running down to meet him. The graceful mother whose form seemed so pliant, so dependant, lean ing upon his manly strength,, and the alight and delicate (shad, were alike the ob jects of his tenderest love and care; and it was with a proud, protecting arm that he encircled them both, and drew them into the warm and lighted room. Ho could but pause and look from the mother to her child—the arch and winning smile of the one, and all her pretty, coquettish, way , ward ways, were faithfully copied in the tiny girl at her side. Both were children, capricious, delicate, bewitchog—spoiled children both. But the husband and fath er would not have it otherwise. When he hail kissed and ()armed the little one, and with a kind good-Light die ' missed her to her cot, he drew his wife gently to his side, and said tenderly : "Well, how has the day passed with you, Helen f" - - - - "Oh, I have been vexed almost to death !" "Why, Helen, what can yeti hale to vex you ?" "Oh. you don't know anything about house : keepers' cares, Albert. I had com pany to dinner unexpectedly, and 1 don't know"— ..Go on !" "Somehow the dinner was not cooked right." " Well !" "And the girls were not in a very good .humour, and I don't know." Fell me every Trouble." "Oh, go on "And ludo Lutie has kept illy nerves in a flutter all day—and—you don't pity nue a bit F' Mr. Hamlin was silent a moment ; then he said, in a very calm, manly way, have studied to make you happy, Helen. Every care that ecouid take upon myself, I have done to save you from care. Come what may, I want you always to be young and happy." lie paused, seemingly thinking. All at once the thought seemed to flash into the mind of Ins wile that he had cares—that he had the oversight of more than thirty men —that he was at the head of a large estab lishment whose management required a clear head, sound judgement and constant rare. Her cares—and he so considerate ! She threw her arms round his neck and burst into tears. "Albert, dear, forgive me, do ! I have not any thing to trouble me, How foolish I was ! There, don't 'link of it any more. lam ungrateful and naughty, I know : but you have spoiled, Ise." He smiled how, answered her with a kiss, seated himself on a luxurious sofa, and would have drawn her to his side, but she laid down a cushion and Sat at his feet, folded her arms across his knee's leaned her head upon them, and looked up' into his fare. "Just your way. Helen ; never at my side, always at my feet." "1 love to look up to you, A lbe rt," she said, with such delicious emphasis, with a smile so confiding. "God bless you, my Helen !" "But we are getting too serious," he resumed, in a i s qoment, shutting sod open gg his eyes very quickly once or twice, 13 clear the moisture that was dimming them. "What place do you suppose I happen ed in at a moment to-day 1 You could never guess—the Woman's Right's Con vention l" "Oh, away with it ; don't mention it— no woman's rights for me." "None, my Helen!" "None but the right to be loved and ta ken good care of !" "And are you T" "God bless thee, Albert, can you ask ? my good husband," and lightly springing up, she took her seat upon his knee; "and now Albert, dear," in a very coaxing voice she began, "now 1 want to ask a favor of you 1" "Well!" "You see, Albert—now, don't refuse— Cousin Kate Mears and her husband are going to New-York to see Kossuth—he has arrived, you know, and they want you and me to go with them. Mr. Mears says he is afraid you can't go because your business is so urgent ; but 1 must. They will take care of me. The girls will do well enough while Lam away—only three weeks you know. We shall have to send darling Lutie down to sister Mary's. You will come on after me, so as to see the great Hungarian, and the rest of the tune you must enjoy yourself as well as you can." Mr. Hamlin did not answer all this run ning chat for a few minutes ; when he did speak, it was in a grave, quiet and decided tone. "It is out of the question for me to go, and I don't feel willing that, ou should.— Cousin Kate and her husbaad are much too gay." Helen's lips quivered like that of a grieved child who cannot have its own way. She half-pouted—a few tears gift tered on her eye-lashes, and she covered her face, sobbing faintly, "I—should not think you could speak—so—harsh—to me —Albert." She knew she would move him, sod she did. "Helen, did I ever speak harshly to you ?" Now it was "my good Albert, my dear Albert," expressions which tiny, and J 9 seem tc me, very foolish, in the writing, and, the reading, but are, nevertheless, natural and true, little, bewitching, coaxing, irresistable-tarts of Albert Hantlin's girlish wife. And' for them he lured her better. Never tell me that the man of bueiness, the man of talent wants an 'appreciative, self ; reliant, companion ! Away with Such falsehood ! There was a brief conference between them I then Hellen bounded op with.% gay laugh, called him by every dear name she could adult of, thee darted to bee writing deal; and peened . a few linos. ; "There !" she said, hank told I Will be ready *learnt* Amon.— * KING, DECEMBER 2,1853. How good you are, Albert. Aud how lonely you'll be !" ~. After sending o ff the note, she tripp ed up stairs to give some directions regard ing her wardrobe. Hamlin trifled for a few minutes with some business letters, which, contrary to his wont, he had brought home with him ; but, every now and then, some snatch of song warbled by his wife, reached his ear, giving him pleas ant thoughts. He finally abandoned the papers, and leaning his head upon his hand, gave himself up to revery. Occa sionally she would come tripping into the room, say a word or two, smile sweetly, and trip out again. As he sat there alone, he thought over his happiness. Nottfing was wanting. Devoutly he said:— "I have enough,oh God! My heart us -night run* over With its fulness of content !" [From the National Era. The Rooster-Peeked Wife. Mrs. Biddy Chanticleer schttches for her breakfast. 0. Chanticleer, Esq., from the top rail of the barn fence, be comes cognizant of the fact, and struts with dignity towards his little spouse. Biddy. "Good morning, my dear." 0. C. Esq. "Morning, madam ; quite enjoying yourself, madam ; of course, you are not aware of the fact that ['have b3en up for more than an hour, and have not yet eaten a mouthful ! Is this what I married you for, madam T (Gives her a pointed salute on the ankle.) Where*re your domestic qualities 1 (Imprints a mark of affection on the top of her head.) Where was your smile of welcome when you saw me getting oil the fence 1 I watched yon, madam ! Where was your tender female solicitude when you beheld me looking weakly for the want of a little nourishment? Where, I repeat, is my break fast I Cock-a- dooill e-doo I" Biddy, (meekly.) "Have a worm, dear f" O. C. Esq.. (solemnly.) "I will. " SCENE SECOND. Mrs. Biddy Chanticleer lays her first egg, and has invited two or three female friends to help cackle, (O. C. Esq., be ing absent.) Mrs. Biddy. "Cut, cut, cut, cut, cut-a a-a-cut, cut. cut-a a-a•a-a-cut!" Mrs. Parlett. "Qua, qua, qua, cut a-a a-cut." Mrs. Pinefeather. "Cluck, cluck, qua, qua, yea, cut, cut, cut, cut-a-a-a-a-cut I" (Is interrupted by the sudden appearance of 0. C. Esq., who has returned from a stag party.) 0. "Cock-a-doodle-doo I Now, more patience be vouchsafed me IQ ask of nu, madam, what does all this nieau here am I returning, care-worn and ex hausted, froin the excitements and temp tations of a delusive world, expecting to find repose and peace in the quiet of the domestic nest, instead of which, I discov er you in the midst of riot and dissipa tion. Madame, insult not my penetra tion by denying it, I affirm that you are having a party I" Mrs. Biddy, (apprehensively.) "Not at all, my dear ; at least, that Is my trieuds were just going by, and stopped in quite accidently, and so—for you see, my dear, I've laid an egg! cut, cut, cut, cut, cut-a-a-a-a-c—that is, at least—yes, sir, we've laid an egg !" Three female friends simultaneously.— "Cut, cut, cut, cut-a-a-a-cut !" 0. C. Esq., (majestically.) "Peace, hens. Madam, what dues all this cack ling folly mean I" (Exeunt hens, in ind:gnation.) "Mrs. B. C., it has become necessary, at this stage of our matrimonial career, that 1 should state, in mild but unmistaka ble terms, my opinions regarding the ap propriate sphere and duties of lienhood." "First, self-devotion : It has been the decision* of all rooster-kind, for ages, and therefore cannot be denied, that the crown ing virtue of the hen character is disinter estedness. A true hen should be patient, self-forgetful, obedient, tenderly solicitous, for her husband's little wants, delighting wholly and solely in the graceful and pleasant duties which cluster round the domestic nest. On the contrary, I find you thinking how to gratify your own selfish tastes and desires. instead of dis playing (as might naturally be expected) some little sense of loneliness and inelan eholly at your husband's absence ; I re turn burn a visit of pearly twelve hours and find you literally rejoicing ! Madam, I ask you is this true henbood Second: A retiring disposition, a del icate shrinking (ruin contact with the coarse and unfeeling world, an exclusive indifference to all without the sacred cit.. cle of the domestic nest. On the contra ry, I find you gadding among the other hens of the yard, making appointments, and sending invitations. Again !ask you, is this true held:mud 1 Third : Freedom from curiosity ; a true hen never evinces the slightest inter est in the affairs of her neighbors, scarce ly in her own ; she never inquires con cerning the whereabouts or actions of her husband, being perfectly assured that wherever he be, and however appearances at the time may sewn to tell against him, he i, ever acting with a view to the wel fare of the domestic nest. On the con trary. what do I Mid to be the truth with regard to yourself I Not a rooster raises his voice wOhin half a mile of the yard. but you are to name him ; note lien lays an egg, but you begin to cackle." Mrs. Biddy, (meekly.) "hie laid an egg ! cut, cut, cut, cut, eut-a-a-a-a-a— No, I mesa—yes sir, We'ive laid an egg."' 0. C. Esq., (with solemn animation.) 'You have laid en egg! ,And 'pray where, is the thing ? (Walks briskly to the. nest, sad takes a atiorosoOpio albs object.) - Biddy. "Cut, cut, cut-4 mean, will It (Nair ?" • • • • O. O. Elk. qiumph-.4ve11,." yet; wiry lair. conesdering ;;bough now I look MOM ekwely i l promo tiuo not prii• diet* shaped ; too short. eattaos,, quite too short ; not well MANNd silt by an y seam. And whet do 7ia phoodkittils. (Part 2d next week.) by having the thing do mach huger 6t o'nd than the other t Whete,"•asiti +is 4 dug klea of symmetry t Zaunds I Madam, •it this is the best you can di in that &pat t• ment, I 'Wilily the next Myself," Mrs.iliddy. (with hPr claw in her eye.) "Please I could't help it. I didn't 'Mean to." 0. C. Esq., (molifled-) welt, don't frPt your gizzard. You're no chick en, madam, to be so sensitive stiont a`fri fle ; only remember my advice in the fu-' Lure, and above all, recollect that the crowning virtue of henhood is disintereet edness.' Mrs. Biddy (meekly.) “Have a worm. dear ?" 0. C. Esq., (solemnly.) Will." OCRPIR THIRD. Mrs. Biddy C. has been setting for' three weeks. 0. C., Esq., appears in the distance, parting with one of his no. merous female. friends ; the tones of his voice fall faintly on Mrs. Biddy's ear, 0. C., Esq. "And now sweetest of hens, farewell ! and may all the stars of heaven and all the saints of the barnyard ' meet to register the day when your smile first dawned upon my dreary life, and made me the happiest of all rootlet...— . Farewe IL" 0. C. wends his homeward wsy..— "Good evening. Jaek ; monstrous fine hen that. Just been parting fmm Or, may be you did not notice her points:' Quite fond of me, too, I assure ptiu. Mill in tears, you will observe—sham ! CUrit a•doodle-doo!" 0. C. reaches the domestic nest. Mrs. Biddy. (feebly.) "0, I'm me glad to have somebody to sciesk to. haven't inept off the nest, nor seen s crea ture, since sunrise. Wow do you do, my dear 1 Anything new ping on in the yard 1" A long pause. 0. C., :Esq., appears' to be suddenly overwhelmed with depres sion and silent gloom. Mrs. Biddy. '•What is the matte,. sir ?" 0. C., Esq., (in - a terrible voice, end . , walking - like Othello.) "Aittitnit am, behold !" (Inserts his bill under his' left wing: and produces a roosteri tail feather.) Do you recognize that, mud am ? Do you .acknowledge mu acquain tance with the chioken-lmarted caitiff who dropt it 1 Are you•swaro that 1 found it, within three feet of the domestic neat?" , Mre. Biddy. (languidly.) "Did yowl 1 didn't [Aloe it." 0. C., Esq. "Peace, hen, and listen while in calm but decisive terms J. strive to impress upon your mind the. enormity of your conduct.,,,Hes it not been the `opinions t that roos.ter4isullwregesp,stul Int it not Therefore, unaspisble;-that (after disinterestedness) the one thing noedful to the female character lir excestnve - mod. eats ? A true hen is so strictly and se• verely virtuous, that the slightest attempt at intimacy from one of an improper sex, though disguised beneath the. specious mask of friendship. will exeiie in her breast the extremes' aversion and horror. On the contrary, what dol. bpd to be the case in regard to yourself I Only yester day, on returning unexpectedly from a little party, I beheld you in animated con versation with my brother,( Heavens madam, am 1 to be longer the victim of such duplicity 1 No sooner would I snerifice at once the domestio nests and fling thy lifeless holy—uh ! oh ! miserYl violence! retenge ! 'Frailty, thy name is lien !' " Mrs. Biddy gets fidgety on her nest.— "Oh, desr we, I'm so tired." Silence for half an hour Mrs. 8.. (u► gentle desperation.) "My dear, do you think you would mind look. ing to the nest a minute. while I run and pick up a little -bit of smoothing hasn't taken a mouthful to day." • 0. C., E.g., (starting up in tioubt.). 7 - "Madam, have I heard aright? Do I un derstand that you have distinctly utTered to shill upon your husband the little duties of the domestic nest 1 Are you going to step from your sphere, madam 1 Have I not again and again impressed upon your mind, that female selfishness is.et the bot tom of these impetuous detetriues I And what, on the contrary, according to the decision all rooster-kW. should be the real pride and ambition of itenhood ? Disinterestedness ; • true hen glories in little crosses and trials ; for' without temptation she perceives that there can be no virtue ; witheut trials, no patience ! without affliction, ner resignation ; whinh is always 4o lovely ti► the female character. A true heti, situated as you are, would tot only rejoice that Providence had sn►'u tit to perfect her with trial's, but with that beautiful . selfabtiegation which can never be so strenuously inculcated but by roomer kind, would set herself to planning new samifiees ; I shy a true hen in your situa tion, instead of sneaking from her little duties, would contrive some plait, (if oulv by reaching out her head and picking the earth around her) for supplying her hus. hand's little wants." . Mr". 8., (weekly.) "Have a worm, dear V' • 0. C.. Eeq., (solemnly.) "Iftv ill." A genius down out has invented a ■pyglasa of wonderful power. He sail he looked i hrough it at a third 13 ottoin. and it brought him relatively nearer than arty of his brothers. Johnson says that the greatest magi cians of the age aro paper•makere. They transform the beggar* . rags intu.shests tur the etlitor'to He on. • 4,The clargyrnan' who "caine to a hood" in his discourse. WWI much 'Surprised to ifind . no brains in it. • Severe trials sill tufo. aitioti those va , storied forces of tbiiiight ittil'eottrage sod fortitude and fidtb,'irtridh gift the victory in the battle Of life. '' • ?M MAl** of 4eitsts tree orgasm el 448 " 4 "la bto, to do, sad sti k subt." TWO DOLLARS'PV;R:ANNUit tiontkEß :et. Saadi vs. tan,* Potatoes. In the" piteit Are* report for 1862 atid , '152, *hie!! just reaChed us; there ens many very valuable communications, in the,agrieoltural deportment of great inter est to ;be farmer. In one of the reports from Maine, by William Upton. Jr., we ex tract the following, which agrees with die enperienee of many others in respect to • ihe use of large and ripe potatoes for mod. Whatever tuay be the original Muse of the rot, is is milonable to infer that the immature seed would be more liable to be sheeted, as was found in this. eel*, tdir , . though wed° not recollect to have lewd before of the same experiment. Mk letter Prevalence of the ?field bit. this was a very important crop hoe htle State, not only as I 'feed for cattle end, bogie, bill le en .and; neat to' thS ' meY 'tie conirideted the gersteet tearitilty *ihni could befall the, farmers of this Shtitykinit its Cause' mad' cure heti thee far betted ; therresearches' of 'the neientilie and lb. practical a•• though I think"la rteagie tetaY be itontewh'at abated 'by the tibiterisiniseor certain inlet in planting. Boleti if ' , Odell., bit dey. land in genii he a rt, turn the grass under the fah - betOrei, end plant in the dpeintes rtaltitind without minoring ; and, in the Wend* of seed, ibject Wanks, planting noire bet these cif good *ilea, NS; and suitable for the table. ,I t ing obi I Coitsidei . eery . errotreinie*thatinitill petatOesineilitt'afi gond to 'plant as large - Mei; slid, theory is true, better. fait the *iltio o. oar mote , ground ,' • On in iikpierlineiti'l tried three or lout years ago; h'iisi Mittir that wbere live' or sat 'buiheli of selected Ostler potatoes.wrote plmtki9',' ltli the midst 'of a field Of thiamin' 'liiiriety'-itf matinee., u nselected , but in 'tithefiiiiiranena planted under precisely the same Muth& stancee; aerstreely of ilia )n4441' or the , forme4 rtmefoehditi'llibleitit The Onion are generally most' Palitable-41 the ittio Ihit are(ptnbisbly the moet-iiiibject to tini Mt Of any petite 'of this region:, the' liiiig`Ved potato is considered theCitierPolle. erage potatO Atop, 'abottt 200 One acre. ' r' , • The culture of the carrot, 0110Itti - linti beet, has considerably Thereinet gliitli►' illy providence of the potatee l'ett; end . 'MO.,' ifip uatoilly considered prohtable. a versge carrot era?' OW' bushels 'per 'mime vs. Jrs.4o l o Of, :' .it the befiniiiiiCtif 4tafiii • fl 4 ai l a bed of rice wahlut.tinivin) Po Aug,. Ail-produced wthillt- - three bushels.' Conceiving the ditiitt eil: ing properties of lime might be advahlate °wily emplOyed in check mg ''dosi, iiiirsek of the disenie, then el , tgiiily 'nzaag ( esitnig itself, l resolved on spritilifing a hiatid on every alternate layer of ?andante - U*o bushel. extending the eaperitieit4 to ' $ boatels only, and storing the remaining one in a dry antis Without any ipidiOtdm On examining them'. a week ago i I IFif gratified tit the discovery ' iliat . silt rata* were °illy ' bid' mining ' the 2 bushel.' to which the lime. was appliel 41461'4 AV- Inns of the othei biiiltid ware ltdrotted.-7- to prevent the effect Wog wee. "4 any tither agent") than the liniti, jiiitsy IA suited that the whole of iiiii`griadwd Hai planted with tOligiti of the aide faille!. and hi m d Normally received el'Oilar,ttrit metro. r fin not find that 'the hate het. any degree, affected the gustily , of IN' Pp. taco.—"W. Spent, Qoarteti. Sept. 12 Directieale litar Viitnilag Treiii Remove all brunted or injured roots, 67 cutting them from the under aide with a eharp knife. Dig die holes at lawittviritte as large as the roots extentl f , so iiti to allow them Italy itemise in their staining iii the loose Smith, which should be finely ptilvet. iced ; when the hole ,is half filltA, potty iii a few gallium Of water, wliich,lse a ten• dendy to settle"the earth and fill on, ViMaisr cies. He careful to avoid liffing *epee i tip, while fi lling hi. Which lends, to :ire the roots a vertical and unnatural pott Mi. Let the soil in contact withthf iix , ,be the rodent soil first thrberti out; or'irseft loam, obtained expressly, !mild be *64 Leaf mduld. from the wiindS, ii.;#itql!,,A, Let no manure bu put iii the, bole, arotaiiil the root, which la apt to:listhieetkinia:y t ill any is applied, let it be optimsurlace, to be carried devil` Gy rata - Irt L i no - or 1, !! ., year is a suitable time for surface Miner mg around tine's. Lin the treat bit hell slaked and tied up,to prevent belt% shekel or disturbed by the winds. Afittemlllure and periodical judicious . pruning in alsii important. As a general rule, °rebirth' should be kept ploughed and cultivatbd to insure fine fruit and good crops. Where ibis is not Practicable, trees should be dug round end kept free from grass and diteWis Avoid especially deep planting; when the earth nettled, the trait should be abont the same depth as before removal. Mulching all trains the first season they are transplanted, by covering thii ground around; two or three feet each way, with grass or 'coarse hay. litter. ike., is Sir, important to secure success. It perserreil an even temperature in the soil. keep"' it damp, and prevent', to tome exuiut, daft. age frbm sudden changes of *ember. Superior Waiting; Soap. 'Doomlre one pound of soda and hid( pound of hot lime in one gallon of Mill* water,; next dissolve nue pound nc hard limy, in, two quarts of builig tie lee ; when'elool mitt them login tier. le i'ainit a s compound for w 'ling or to toy of the webbing fluids ead'iiitlitet soaps use. . ' When the much dreaded oentedililt , day" caineete_roond. melee e t siren; ea . this soap,liiid boil, die clot els, prise ly soaked, lor half an ',neer.. Take 01111 ! Otifs. Wane poor boiling irster on them. 040, they will be blond to elms, muthimf more being required then to new well free them from the 'missing of the a&
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