BY S. B. now.
CLEARFIELD, WEDNESDAY, MAECH 5, 1850.
VOL. 2.-NO. 30.
THE LOVED OSES AFAR.
ST F. D. PLIMPTON.
When night winds are wailing,
' Like spirits in thrall,
And Death walks in Darkness,
Through hamlet and ball,
Kind Angels of Mercy,
"Wherever they are,
Watch over the slumbers
Of loved onus afar
Our heart's dearest treasures
The loved ones afar.
Where'er they may wander.
O'er land and o'er sea,
Thou Father of Angels,
We trust them with thee
Be thou to Earth's pilgrims
The day beam and star.
The stall of the weary,
To loved ones afar
Our heart's dearest treasure.
The loved ones a fir.
"While life hath pleasure,
Or hope hath a cheer ;
"While the heart can teel kindness.
Or sorrow a tear ;
X cannot forget them,
Nor fail in the prayer.
That God will watch over
The loved ones afar
Our heart's dearest treasures.
The loved one afar.
The winter of lifetime
May close round in gloom,
And spring flowers may scatter
Their leaves o'er my tom.b;
Tet still through the darkness.
Like evening's pale star,
My spirit will hover
O'er leved ones afar
Onr heart's dearest treasures.
The loved ones afar.
From tho Knickerbocker.
STRAY FANCIES OF YOUNG LIFE.
. BY PHIL. KB.OMMOK.
I wish you could have seen her my first love!
I had reached the advanced age of ten when
cay heart surrendered Itself to Fanny C , and
the young lady was no oiler. We attendad
the same school, and she us'd to cast at me
side-long, modest glances of affection, In an
swer to toy somewhat broad stare of admira
tion, when we ercountere 1 each other in the
street, on our way to the temple of learning.
At last, one evening, we met at a juvenile par
ty ; we wore both seized with a chronic blush
ing, and when ia the course of some kissing
game, I chose her, and imprinted a hiss upon
her cheek, she was quite overpowerod. I re
member now tho Joyous spring-like thrill
which that chaste, pure kiss of boyish affec
tion sent tingling through my blood. We be
came bound to each other from that happy
minute.
, I dreamt of that girl for three nights succes
sively, and when Saturday came was misera
ble, very miserable ; for I knew I should not
sou her, again till Monday. I wandered in tho
diiection of her father's residence oa Satur
day afternoon, instead of playing 'hockey'
wi;h my companions. He lived in a court. I
darsd not turn into it, but I passed by the end
several times with the air of a corsair disap
pointed ia love.
I detected myself now often before a looking-glass,
continually brushing my hair and
putting ou clean collars. I polished my shoes
every d.:y, and in my progress toward refine
ment, ercn declined to engage ia any outside
f aiiies. Fanny and I would meet each othor
at appointed tiin?s and places, and take long
Wal'-is together. Where we wandered in these
excursions, I know net, but I was certainly
Tory happy; and when I returned Lome, was
alwcys anxious to know if thsro wasn't a rent
la my apparel, or white-wash on rnyjicket, or
some other little matter which might have de
ducted from the splandor of my personal ap
pearance during the walk.
- No living mm, not even tho President of
the United States, whoever that dignitary
might have been at the tirrc, held so high a
place in my imagination as Famy's father.
Ilis effect npon me was astounding. He cer
tainly was not possessed of extraordinary tal
ents, and, I have since discovered, was rather
common-place character; but he-was Fan.
mjs father, and that was otioL'S'1 for me. A
man who was the parent of such a girl shotiid
not be compared with the general run of hu
manity, by any means. I think I feared him,
for in my mind he possessed most of the traits
which history gives Olivet Cromwell, mingled
with some of tho characteristics of Napoleon
Bonaparto. Yet this man, know ing doubtless
of my acquaintance with Fanny, addressed me
one day in the street, and said, Well. my boy,
call and see our Fancy ; I know she would like
to see you!' '
Here was condescension! a gentleman of
his age and ' standing inviting me to call and
see his daughter! I blushed and muttered
some thanks, which he replied to with a hearty
laugh, and passed on. I entertained an idea
that Mr. .C. was enormously rich. 1 knew
that, if Le chose, he could draw from his pock
el a handful cf gold eagles at any time. I
wondered why he wasn't Governor of tho State
or ernietbing of that sort, and pondered on
the celebrated ingratitude of republics. And
this man wished me to call upon bis daughter!
Bless me! I rather thought I would. , ,
I went home, and in an easy, gentlemanly
way, informed my mother dear mother! I
ee her quiet smile now that Mr. C. had just
Invited me to call on Fanny, and that I tho't
I abonld accept and visit her in the conrso of
47 or two. In a day or two J yes, Indeed.
Deceitful boy that I was I I knew I should
call directly alter schcol with Fanny, that af
ternoon. It was a great thought. I should ac
company that dear girl home, walk tip the
steps to the door, and instead of then bidding
her farewell, would enter that abode of happi
ness. And when my mother told me that I
appeared to be very fond of Miss Fanny, didn't
I ignore the fact on the spot, and endeavor to
laugh it ofT cavalierly, and signally fail in the
attempt J And then the pains I took about my
dress that noon ; it really seemed that the do
mestics did get up my linen very carelessly
now. I mentioned it to my mother as she was
pinning on my collar, tut she didn't agree
with me.
I started for school that afternoon with a
beating heart, but full of hope, and already
enjoying my happiness in anticipation. But
eveu as I gazed upon the old brick school
house, my heart sank within me, and I feared
I scarcely knew what. Alas! Fanny was not
at school! She had been taken suddenly ill
that morning, and the physician had ordered
her to keep w ithin doors. Thus was my cup
of happiness dashed to the earth. Long and
weary days passed, and still her seat was emp
ty. I mustered up conrage, and boldly rang
at her father's door, and inquired after her. I
am sure I must have looked sheepishly about
it, for the servant laughed at me. I think I
coul J have seen that man trampled by wild el
ephants, or shot out of" a cannon, or put to a
painful death in any ether Oriental manner,
without the slightest pity for him. This mis
erable domestic informed me that Miss Fanny
was growing better. I was happy ia my heart,
but could not, a? I had intended, send my re
spects through this man ; so 1 turned upon my
heel and lef wondering iu what part of the
house Fanny was lying.
At last I saw her again. I pressed her soft,
little hand, and gazed tenderly upon her pale
face. I called to sse her, and as sin became
well and hearty again, I saw her cftener, and
we vero on the most intimate terms. We
walked together; we sat cozily at home and
played back-gammon ; and at intervals, I took
tea at her mother's table.
A family -party of us attended the theatre,
and at my earnest request, my mother dis
patched me to invite Fanny to go with us.
Her mother consented, and we were very, very
happy while w itnessing the representation of
the drama of the 'Forty Thieves.' Fanny
clapped her hands for joy when Ali Bab a was
safely out of the cavern, with his store of trea
sure, and shuddered and crept close to me
when M org i .in a poisoned tho robbers in the
jars. I wasn't worth much for purposes of
study for many days after that. My master
chided me, and what was worse, detained me
after school-hours. This stroke of bad foi tune
di-prived me of the pleasure of walking home
with Fanny, and I was the more chagrined,
since I had reason to believe that a stout boy,
with very black eyes, took occasiou at ihesa
times to pay attention to her; and I had once
detected him disappearing around tho corner
of the street in her company, as I emerged
from the school-door. I sunk to the lowest
depths of despair, and fancied no one could
ever bo so irremediably wretched.
I never affected tho society of that boy ; it
appeared to mo that there was some innate, in
herent baduess in his character; and I felt it
my duty to warn Fanny against so abandoned
a villain. She replied w ith a toss of her pret
ty head which I did not half like. I brushed
rudely against the black-eyed boy when I en
countered him ; and seeking out some peculi
arity in the texture or fit of his apparel, insult
ed him grossly with a sarcastic mention of it.
I took exception to his gait, and gave a bur
lesque imitation of it in the open street ; in
deed I tried various wars to pick a quarrel
w ith him. I even went so far as to taunt him
with his attentions to Fanny; this touched
him, and he gave me baitlo ; he gave me more
he gave me a thrashing. In this conflict I
received a black eye, which resulted in some
trouble for me at home : and would you be
lieve it, Fanny laughed at me ! This ltd to a
series of rccrimiuations, and we parted in a
quarrel. How grieved I was at what I had
done, and how vexed with my3e!f for having
had any words with Fanny, I need not state
here. However, in a day or two, she begged
my pardon, and with an expression of oll'endetl
dignity, I forgave her, as if I was a jvi'mce of
the blood, and she some poor peasant's child.
I felt grandly, and longed to embrace her, but
that wouldn't do at all; it might compromise
me. I miut make it appear that she had been
entirely in the wrong.
After this, wo were fast friends, and the
black-eyed boy had no chance. I still euvied
him hugely for one thing, and that was his
beautiful hair, which wa always parted and
dressed stylishly. I am inclined to think that
he used Macassar ; and indeed there was a ru
mor rife with the boys that he poured an entire
vial of that ambrosial liquor upon his locks
each day. Now, my hair was flaxen and cur
ly, and I was compelled to ow n, suffered great
ly in comparison with his. I had serious
thoughts of using a hair-dye, and applied to
my mother for funds for the purchase thereof,
but she said something about tho progress of
Young America. which at that time 1 did not
understand, and refused to assent to my plan
of amending nature Poor woman ! she ad
mired the color of my hair as it was, I know ;
for my father, when young, possessed locks of
the same sunny shade.
I attended another party, and among the
gnests were Fanny and the black-eyed boy,
who, by-the-bye, was rather attentive to a
young lady in a yellow frock, whom I consid
ered handsome, but Fanny couldn't bear her.
Why did Fanny appear so very plain that
evening? Why couldn't her mother have
brushed that wisp out of her hair? Why was
that pretty ppron so one-sided ? It was strange
she shoulU be so careless of her looks. But
the yellow frock! How very beautiful she
was, to be sure ! I spoke- to her: t.hc replied
sweetly, and blushed. There was no wisp in
her hair, and her apron was adjusted to a
charm. Why should I devote myself so en
tirely to Fanny? Was it not apparent that
many of tho prettiest girls in the room were
madly in love with me ? Couldn't I choose lor
myself, and flirt with any one of them ? And
was it required that I should be tho boud-slave
of n girl, of whose affection I waa assured in
auy event ? Certainly not. If Fanny wished
to retain my love, she should take better care
of her hair, and, above all, not consider it al
ways as understood that I entirely "belonged to
her. There was no engagement or understand
ing between us yet. By George! I was free,
I hoped, and could of course pay my deioirs
to any young lady I fancied.
Then what a killing flirtation I commenced
with the yellow frock ! How coyly yet how
gratefully she received my advances, and how
exultingly I gazed at Fanny ! Poor girl ! she
sat with down-cast looks, and hardly seemed
to enjoy the games and sports of the evening.
I began to feel a grand and kingly pity fr her,
and made lip my mind to go over to her, and
throw out a word of encouragement, after I
had assured myself of success with the yellow
frock. When the supper-hour arrived, I re
marked to Fanny, in a quiet w ay, that I had
eTigajed to wait upon yellow frock to the ta
ble, but should be pleased to give her my i it
engaged arm. She looked up at me w ith a
trembling lip; said she would not trouble me;
she had other resources. With a smile of su
periority, but with a very unpleasant feeling
about the throat, I passed down to supper in
as stately a manner as I could assume.
Fanny received at supper, and during the
balance of the evening, the unremitted atten
tions of the black-eyed boy. How any young
lady coul 1 associate with such a person, I could
not, for the life of me, conceive. She will re
gret this very much, thought I, ia after-life,
when he escapes from the State-prison, where
he has been incarcerated for forgery, and takes
to the high seas as a pirate, and is captured,
and is brought to this port by a sloop of war,
and is tried, condemned, and hanged, and not
in the slightest way recommended to mercy,
and dies unrepentant, after an unsuccessful at
tempt to stab the executioner with a Spanish
dirk, which he has managed to conceal in his
long, dark hair. She will regret very much
having had any communication with him when
this occurs ; and it seemed a probable train of
circumstances to my mind at the time.
When the hour arrived for tho breaking up
of tho party, that scoundrel in embryo Ladj an
affectionate adieu to Fanny, and attended her
to her carriage. She scarcely deigned to glance
at me, as she passed mc in the hall. Mean
time 1 flattered myself that I had made a great
impression upon the yellow frock, and deter
mined to know more about her at any rate;
but after all, if tho truth was told, I left" the
house for home quite unhappy.
I wept, I am sure, after I retired, and dream
ed fearful dreams, and in the wild and varied
fancies of my disturbed slumber, tho black
eyed boy towered, pre-eminent in all sorts of
w ickedness, like Satan in 'Paradise Lost.'
It required long and tedious weeks to recov
er even a small portion of my position in Fan
ny's heart, and she never again had tho same
respect for mc as before. New loves came
forward, ami the gulf between us gradually wi
dened. We both formed other attachments,
and in time they also gave place to others.
Sometimes, in my boyish regret, I would have
given worlds if she could have loved me as
she once did, and doubtless she entertain.,! the
same wish in regard to me; bu'c wo both prob
ably were certain that it could never ba so
again.
It is a phase of youthful life, but the moral
will apply to later years. We tramplo the
flowers of friendship and love under our foet
sometimes from mere caprice and then in
the dark hours which come to every one, we
wish those same flowers were blooming, bright
ly and freshly, in our hearts.
I saw Fanny in tho street a few weeks since,
with a sturdy little blue-eyed fellow of a boy ;
she smiled graciously, and gave mo a matron
like bow. I wonder if she remembered how
much we once loved each other.
If a girl thinks more .of her heels than her
head, depend upon it she will never amount to
much. Brains which settle in the shoes never
get above them. Young men note this.
. Tho nerve which never relaxes tho eye
which never blanches the thoughKhat never
wanders these aro tho masters of victory.
The man who passed through life without en
emies could not have had a character worth deprecating.
KIIiWAN ON THE ARCHBISHOP.
From the N. Y. Observer.
THE 'arciiaishop tbikes iiis chckcii is
INCREASING K1RWAN THINKS NOT.
'Archbishop Hughes, in his recent lecture
in Baltimore, expressed the opinion that the
Roman Catholic Church in this country can
anticipate little increase to its numbers or
strength from immigration and that tho fu
ture hopes of tho Church mu3t be based upon
its retaining its present numbers, and upon the
increase from conversions. He thinks the pre
sent condition of the Church, and the numer
ous accofcsions which, he says, have been made
to it from converts of American birth, justify
the ra-jst sanguine expectations in this regard.'
We clip the above from the papers, as a
brief synopsis of a lecture delivered recently
in Baltimore by Bishop Hughes of this city.
The bishop baa so utterly fallen from the posi
tion he once occupied, that his opinions, on
any subject, weigh not a feather beyond the
illiterate circle of which he is the centre; and
on this account we might bo excused from no
ticing the above characteristic Darasrranh. We
supposed, also, that his tremendous effort to
raise the window, and, with covered hands, to
cast out that vile insect, Brooks, had so com
pletely exhausted his powers, that we should
not hear of him again, until they had sufficient
time to recover. We supposed that he would
have confined himself to the duties of his of
fice, which are, mainly, mumbling masses,
watching tho political vane so as to know
where, and for what party, to set his traps, and
husbanding tho income of the 'Ca!vary Cem
etery. " We expected, occasionally, to hear
of Ids gracing a mass meeting of Irishmen met
to consult, and to fight, about the liberation
of Ireland, or a lecture in tho Tabernacle, by
the poor, feeble, fickle, fallen Bishop Ives,
who has discovered since he hung bis trinkets
over the tomb of St. Peter, what a blessing it
was that printing was 80 long undiscovered,
and what a blessing ignorance is, because it
compels ignorant people to learn divine truth
from tho priests' lips, that cannot lie, instead
of learning it from the printed page, which
may lie ! ! But the bishop has disappointed
onr suppositions, and our expectations, and he
has ventured another experiment upon the
credulity of the public, of which the alove is
given as the substance. Let us briefly analyze
the assertions of the pretentious paragraph.
1. "The Catholic Church in this country
can anticipate little increase to its members or
strength from immigration." This sentence
is designed, no doubt, to lull the apprehen
sions of Protestants, on the one Land, and to
excit J prejudice against the Know-Nothings
on tho other. Many are alarmed at the influx
of the squalid Popish population that infest
our seaboard, and that are crowding all the
ways of access to the interior of the country.
They aro everywhere, like the frogs of Egypt,
and they aro just as much, and as little to be
feared. Since tho beginning of the Kussian
war, and since tho opening of tho present ref
ormation in Ireland, and since the increasing
benefits cf tho encumbered Estates Bill"
there, hava been made apparent, emigration
has been greatly diminished from Ireland and
Germany. But when tho war is ended, and
when high prices and low wages again rule,
the tide will rise to its full again ; and papists,
as poor as priests can make them, will bo pour
ed in shirvloads on our shores. And the par
tial check, for obvious causes, is laid at the
door of the Know Nothings, every ono of
whom the pious bishop loves with the love he
bears to Erastus Brooks. Time will prove the
bishop's assertions to be utterly baseless.
Protestants need not bo alarmed; but the pa
pists w ill come. And the more the better.
And the Know-Nothings have sins enough to
answer for without having charged upon them
the effects of tho causes above stated. We
have not a doubt but that ono hundred thous
and Irish in this country are now laying aside
from their earnings enough to Lring as many
more of their friends hero wit Lin the next
year. And every ouc that conies will bo suro
to bo followed by ono or two others.
2, 'Tbe future hopes of tho Church must
bo based upon its retaining its present num
bers, and upon the increase from conversions.'
Hero tho hopes of popery arc made to rest up
on two legs. Tho right leg is, "retaining its
present numbers," that is, retaining those who
are now papists, with their children, and de
scendants. But this is impossible. In Italy,
in Sardina, in Spain, and even in Ireland, the
most servile and priest-ridden country on the
globe, tho church cannot retain the people
within its pale- They beard the Pope they
exile his impertinent bishops who would put
the crozier above the crown they sjnd home
bis Nuncios they denounce the priests as
perfidious robbers they protest against the
dogmas and claims of the church. Can it be
otherwise in tho United States? Nobody
knows better than John Hughes the extreme
difliculty cf keeping even tho Irish in the tra
ces here. Just as rapidly as they exchange
their brogues for shoes, and their native frieze
coats for broadcloth, and their potatoes and
oatmeal for moats and bread, are they rising
to the region where men assert tho right to
think for themselves. And when men think
for themselves, it is all over with the priest.
If this is so with the raw material, what must
it be with the children, brought up amid onr
schools, and ail ear Institutions, which art to
Popery what an August sun is to an iceberg I
Millions of the descendants of papists are at
this hour ia fervent opposition to Fopery; and
multitudes who have felt its iron in their
souls, are the most eloquent denouncers of it
both in Europo and America. Priest Keardon,
of Pennsylvania made the true statement upon
this subject, who deplores the awful tendency
of the Papist to Protestantism in this country,
and advises the Irish to stay at home and save
their souls upon potatoes and salt, rather than
como here to get rich, andtbus put their
cTuls in jeopardy by eaUnmeat on Friday,
and failing to go to cnfcjin4 "The hopes of
the church based upon retaining its present
numbers !" Then arc they built upon a cloud !
The left foot upon which the hopes of tho
church are made to stand is "the increase from
conversions." There are always little eddies
to be found on the margins of rivers which
have a strong current, into which the
waters run, and ia a direction contrary to
the. main stream. Into these eddies arc oft
en collected chins, ami Hjrht. and rotten wood,
which usually float on tho surlaco, and aro ea
sily turned aside from the main course. And
whilst the great current of American senti
ment seis as strongly against Fopery as the
Mississippi or the St. Lawrence to tho ocean,
yet that current has its eddies into which a few
have been turned by the rushing waters. Ives,
having passed through the various mutations
from Congregationalism to fuscyism, began
to show some affection for the Scarlet Lady.
When his tricks were discovered, and his mi
tre was in danger, he turned into tho eddy.
Brownson, when as a Universalis! cxhorter, he
could not put hell out of tho Bible, and when
as a roaring politician ho could not secure one
of the seven loaves, nor a tasto of the two
small fishes, turned about, and, as if in spite,
added purgatory to hell, and would put the
triple crown upon the head of our eagle.
And ho turned into the eddy. And a ftw oth
ers, of no possible account, any way, have
turned in with them. And John Hughes stanr
ding by tho eddy, and shutting his eyes to the
main current sweeping onward in the distance,
lifts his hands in rapture at tho numbers turn
ing into the eddy, and he hopes for the church
beeauso of its ''increase from conversions."
He forgets that when one turns into tho eddy,
therj are hundreds that pass don the current.
Forget, did I say. No, he understands theso
things entirely. He feels them keenly and
deeply. He is a sadly disappointed and mor
tified man. And all this fuss about tho hope?
of the church being founded on retaining its
present numbois, and on increase from con
versions, is but the whistling of tho man
shivering with fear when passing a grave
yard of a dark night to keep up his spirits.
Let Bishop Hughes try his theory of hopes,
any fair Sunday, at St. Patrick's; let him tarn
out all foreign birth, and let him retain within
its walls only those of native birth, and those
converted from tho Protestant faith. How ma
ny would ho have left to witness that raiscra
able pantomine, called the mass? I have no
doubt the experiment would astonish himself,
as it would disprovo his theory in every par
ticular, and give all his hopes to tho winds.
If there is to be but little accession hereaf
ter to the Popish church in this country from
foreign immigration; if tho church hereafter
is to be sustained by retaining its present
members, and by the Increase from conver
sions, then I venture to predict the extinc
tion of tt.o Popish church in these United
States in thrco generations.
If tho Bishop's theory is right, then we
would advise him to pack up Lis vostraents
and to be ready for a move ; for as certainly
as the foreign streams of immigration fail, ho
is left high and dry. But where can ho go
Not to Italy not te Spain not to Sardinia
not to Ireland not even to Austria lor the
concordat is working terribly. His better
plan is to make for himself friends from the
mammon of unrighteousness collected from
Calvary Cemetery," so that when bis crook
and crozier arc flourished within empty wails,
he may have a comfortable income! This was
the course of oue unjust steward ; why may it
not be of another? Ilia wax.
The Best Kecrkatiox. Tho celebrated mu
sician, Haydn, was in company, when tho sub
ject of conversation was tho best means of re
storing montal energy after the exhaustion of
long and difficult studies. One said he had re
source to a; bottle of wine; another went tnto
company; Haydn said that he retired to his
closet and engaged in prayer, which exerted
the most happy and efficacious influence on
his mind.
When a man comes home and trios to bolt
the door with a swoet potato, pokes tho fire
with tho spout of the coffee pot, attempts to
wind up tho clock with tho bootjack, tries to
cut kindling for his morning flro with an ivory
paper knife, taken a cold potato in bis hand to
light him to bed, and prefers to 6leep in his
boots and hat, you may reasonably infer that
he has been making tho acquaintance f ome
very friendly people.
Katiier Sevjcrk. A lady was request hT
it bachelor, somewhat advanced in .rears, to
tk a seat npon bis knee wbV in a crowded
Bleigb. "No thank yon,'aid she, I am a
fraid such an old weald fcrk down with
me.
FARMERS' CLUBS.
Among the Lest instrumentalities to awaken
interest in tho Improvement of oar modes cf
cultivation, there are nono that stand higher
than tho one named at the head of this article.
A few words as to the uses of theso associa
tions and their mode of action, may not be
thrown away. Every farmer has peculiarities
in his management of each branch of his call
ing, and for every one of his peculiarities, if
he is a sensible man, lie has a reasoa that to
him is abundantly sitisfa.ry. He is con3
dent that if his neighbor would but follow tls
mode of cultivating a crop or rearing a ani
mal, he would bo greatly benefited, and emi
nently raoro successful than he is to follow his
own; whilo tho neighbor believes precisely
the eame in regard to him. Lot these two
men, with half a dozen others who hold all
Bhades of opinion on tho points wher3 the two
differ, meet to discuss the mooted question!,
and there aro a hundred chances to one that
the opinions and practice of every man in the
room would bo modified and improved. Ia
fcuu f - . . - . r .
tural science, next to a long scries of careful"
ly conducted, well arranged, detailed experi
ments, there is nothing so much to be desired
as a bringing out of opinions, and a compari
son of the practices of practical men. And
we can conceive of no means so well calcula
ted to do it as a pleasant neighborhood gather
ing ef farmers of an evening, to talk over the
modes of practice pursued by them individual
ly in reference to some particular subject to
which tho evening is devetcd. There need
be no formality or speech making ; let it be en
tirely a conversational meeting, and a record
kept of the mode advocated by each person,
in order to give some value and perpetuity to
tho discussion.
Our word for it, a dozen farmers ia any town
who will meet and start some subject to be
discussed, as for instance the best mode of
hat vesting Indian corn, whether to cut it to
the ground or to cut the stalks and leave it to
ripen on tho hill; the best time to plow sward
land for corn, 'and a thousand other thing
where men differ, will soon find that tho loss
of a dinner will be preferred to missing the
meeting of the club.
And no dozen men can get together and
pass one evening in two weeks through the
winter and discuss questioiTs upon which theV
are ail well informed, without giving and get
ting more useful knowledge than they suppose;
every ono of them will find his views more or
less changed, or will have the satisfaction of
seeing that his neighbor has changed his and
his practice. We have seen tho working of
an institution of this sort, and can instance ia.'
dividual and aggregate practice wonderfully
improved through its influence, and are con
fident that none of the members of that body
regret the tinio and trouble invested la the
Farmer's Club.
Tho mode cf management is very simple
aa organization for order requires merely a
President, Y. President, Clerk, and Treasurer;
a tax just sufficient to heat and light the room
-. . - .law... , J.'J.V 1 1 J V il" U l J &V
discussed at tho next meeting, and two men
or four, who are supposed to think a littlo upon
the matter, to break ground in tho discussion.
Ona of theso men at the meeting gives hit
opinions upon the matter in Land, sitting down,
and with no sort of formality, If any one dif
fers with Lim bo states his opinion and objec
tions; the courtesy that maintains good order
prevents confusion, but there will be plenty of
warm debate and strong advocacy of individu
al views. Tht Homestead.
GETTtxa Aloo. About thirty miles abor
Wilmington, North Carolina, lived three fel
lows, named respectively Barham, Stone end
Gray, on the banks of the North East River.
Thjy came down to Wilmington in a Email
row boat, and niado fast to the wharf. They
had a tiiu9 of it in the city, but for foar they
would be dry before getting home, they pro
cured a jug of whiskey and after dark, of a
black night, too, they embarked ia their boat,
expecting to reach homo ia the morning.
They rowed away with all tho energy that the
three tipsy fellows could muster, keeping up
their spirits in the darkness by pouring th
spirits down. At breai of day thoy thoag'al
they must be near home, and seeing thro' the
dim gray mist of the morning a house on tie
river side, Stone sail ;
Well, Barhm, we've got to your place at
last.'
If this Is my honse,' said Barbara, 'some
body Las been putting up a lot of out-houses
since I went away yesterday ; but I'll go ashore
and look about, and see wnere we are, uyoU'
hold her to.' 'oa and
Barham disembarkes, takes obser'y
soon cones stumbling along & "
claims
C WelT, I'll be licked a,n,t at i0g
ton here yet ; an hat's ff or' iU ai
bcctMchliuharfaUiSfltr -It
wac' "nJ tne drunken dogs bad bees
rowJoff away for dear life without being aware
oflt. -
" That divine bundle of oddities' and queer
conceits, with many wholesome trctbs, Lores
zo Dow, defined a death-bed repentance i b
burning out the candle of life In .the
vloe of the deril, and tfoMng the nutTta'the J"
Lord's faee." ' .