~ ..... . . ;'?'Z'.? , '4 ,, , , ,'• , ,,,,i,,,',:, , .. ~..•;:,', t.,....fr. , . \ vp. , ;;;S:. .'''' ...,.:. • -. ,- • ; ~.•. - c-,'..;:..*: •.:,?. - : 4- ::., " _: 2 '--,7-.'.. Z : .. " .:. . ' l , : ', : '' '--''..' . '"• .. '.;-,- 7.1 ... — . '1 . .- ''• ~..'',L ;.4''.,,,..'••... •'- ~-•'. :-?1.,.; .:. . . ' .. ..fi , :i.....,i . :,......' ' . • .„.,;,_.t,,.:,.....,,.. i...„ , Z .. , ' '„ . i-I ._ - . ; . , . ;i " „.•'„ i .,. 4 .- yi, ! % ,' , . ,,, i: .- 9'.'-'•'' . r "i' -,,t' .. c.,i „ f , ; :' 5 .4 t;t .4 ; 1 ,. , t ,, ,'; . k . ',.;. .- -•,;!.:,?.. :..: - ..,;„.:?.•.-,•.,,... ~,.... '.....;. . .• .',,."....-.:..„.-,.....:. .... . ~ . .',....' ... ,:..., ..';„.n;•..•.•;.•;•••:;•.:•i.•,,:-••..,!•...1:..:-',.,,: •.„:•.'7. • .• ~.;‘•-, -_..% . ,:.,'r•'.-::.,. . 0.. F.,- ...... ' ,i•'..•.'..',.'' .:: . t'•,'-:.; ..'.:i.g:.::.-.;:-• '.. :',N- ~::.,:':' ','f. • ' ' • ; ••.•,,,i. • L : . -. ... ..:,..,!•5.:,••.• ,:.• • . .. ' `,',:r-• .1,1-Sv-li•6 -:,.7 '::-" . -.':.1...1'. ' ' .••.....•.•.',%,... :,...::-..!.'_ .:;:., .. .:, :,::'.....-.-. :':,...",:!:':,..: -.-.. ' .. i . -.C - 4 -,..' • -l.'::, ",:-:'.:'. pK'-.:.„ ':•2”: ~ .•.••..r."...,...•,..• . ,•_-•- •,,:,..TC,?A0.,...•:..1, e , ! , t •',-••:,•. ',. . ..;•.,",. .;:. .... .. •[ . •,., • .,-5„ 1: • . : . • :F . , .• , .. . . t.-.. 5...:, ..•., ...-.: i. ' .,24. .:.-...:. ',.'..::..;...t , .. gC„,.i•,i. 2-.7..,.. ... ; i ,- .' , ;. h.: . . 7 . : .3 ,' -. .. , : , .. k -. . , -.4..1 , 4,_ ? „ ,9% .4 t, ..: 1 . . :.. . s. - .:,•.:;.•*.",.,.."- ::•..::.; , ' • :-. , - - . ,1!,,,j, ' ... ,.. :::-,N • - . . . tt1,... .. . i;,..... ,.. . • , -t" ,.. . . .s. .. . BY W. LEWIS. THE HUNTINGDON GLOBE, Per annum, in advance, $1 50 " " if not paid in advance, 2 00 No -paper discontinued until all arfearages are paid. A failure to notify a discontinuanbe at the ex. piration of the form subscribed for will be con sidered a new engagement. Terms of Advertising. Six lines cr less, square, 16 lines, brevier, 3 44 3 m. 6 m. " $3 00 $5 00 88 00 " • .5' 00 800 1200 1 squarb, " 750 10 00 15 00 " 900 14 00 23 00 " 15 00 25 00 38 00 3 ..« 4 " 5 4i " 25 00 40 00 60 00 Professional and Business Cards not exceed. ing. 6 lines, one year, . $4 00 10 “ Agents for the. Globe. The followhig gentlemen . are authorized to receive the names of all who may desire to be come subscribers to the GLOBE, and to receive advance;payMents and receipt for the same. HENRY ZINIMEII.3IA.N, Esq., Coffee Run. M'Connellstown. BErd. F. PATTON, Esq.;Varriorsmark. Jon CtwuNs,'Esq., Bkmingham. R.'F. HASLETT', Spruce Creek. El. B.'MYVfNGER, Wate'. Street. SrLAs - A. Cacsswm,L, Manor Hill. DAVID West BEITTOC. TILOS. Oznotiv, Ennisville. GILBER.T CiyAmir.y, Esq.; East Barree. Dr. M. MILLER, Jackson tp. • S.4.muEL,M l VurrY, Shirleysburg. S. B, YOUNG, Three Springs. M. F. CAMPBELL, •Esq., Mapleton; J: R. Hux.r.En, Petersburg. S,,Huyr, Shade Gap. D. H. CAMPBELL, PilarklesburgL H. C. Weracrnt, Alexandria. 3. S. Gmarrr, Cassville. TRY AGAIN How oft has disappointment marred Seine cherished plan of mine, And bidden winter clouds appear Where summer's sun should shine ; Yet often as they darker grew, I've seen some wondrous pen Uppn the very bla - eltest write "The sentence, "Try again." How often, in the stilly hour Of night, the heavy sigh, In sympathy, has strove to meet . The tear drop in my eye ; And' then, like angels whispering Their messages to men, - I've heard the quiet breathing of The sentence, "Try again." How often, as I've walked amidst Life's ever busy tide, And jostled with its favored ones On each and every side ; .‘ ,7 l3en my misfortunes seemed to be O'erwhelmino• 3 even then b Has some good spirit breathed to me — The Sentence, "Try again," My guardian angel it must be, Or else the weight, of care Had sunk me in the very depths Of sorrow and despair ; But oh, my heart much lighter seems .AniLhope shines brighter, when I hear that spirit lightly breathe 'l'he sentence, "Try again." MORAL AND MENTAL TRAINING. The Uses of Parental Discipline. "Examples—precepts—truths-- These mould the mind and heart." In conversing a day or two since with an esteemed friend, who has, for years, been connected with several of the most important of our public institutions, he expressed the opinion that "four-fifths of the crime that prevails throughout the land, should he attri buted to PARENTIO. KEGLRCT." In other words, that "mental and moral training is the great essential in civilized society"— that "it not, only fits and qualifies for the use ful walks of life, but it checks and restrains the prejudices and the passions, and thus prevents the indulgence of crime." A thou sand illustrations might be given. The an nals of our Penitentiaries • and our Almshou ses ;eer4 with examples. History is full of thenT.• The heart is as capable of education as the mind, but it is too often neglected.— The affection, the folly, and the pride•of pa rents are , frequently indulged at the expense of the after lives' of , their children. The first germs of vice are encouraged instead of being repressed. Disobedience is • regarded as smartness, and insolence is often mistaken for Wit. The consequences are deplOrable. The vicious passions of our nature, thus fos tered and encouraged, soon become ungov ernable, and the propensity to evil which might have been_ checked at the outset, strengthens into la master passion, and at once cantrols and deforms the character.— All this is simple truth, and it is in some sense -common-place. The story is an old one, and the admonition has been uttered again and again. But we are the creatures of time, chance and change, the calamities of to-day will be forgotten to-morrow, the experience of one year "fails to impress the 1 ins. 2 ins. 3 ins. 25 37i 50 50 75 1 00 00 1 50 2 00 150 225 3. 00 next, and hence the necessity of repeated hints and homilies upon subjects which, comparatively speaking, are trite. As long, however, as human nature remains the same, as long, as parents and guardians are either mistaken, misguided, indifferent or over-in dulgent, we must look for sad fruits in their offspring. There are many fathers and mo thers, who fancy that they have no time to look after their children, and yet—what duty is more solemn or more sacred ? There are others again, who see them go on step by step in the downward path, unwilling to wound their feelings by a word of reproach ; who determine, from day to . day, to call them to a seriotos' account, but constantly postpone the painful yet necessary task.— There are still others, who admonish in a spirit so bitter, and in a tone so harsh, that all salutary effect is lost. Confidence is at once destroyed between the Parties, the one looks upon the other with distrust, a system of coldness and hypocrisy is produced, and thus, parent and child, instead of growing up to love and respect each other, become jeal -1 ous, suspicious, and often envious and ma lignant. The proper government of a house- I hold should be the subject of thoughtful con sideration with every head of a family. -- I The responsibility of such a position cannot be pondered on too deeply. Only a day or two since, we saw a father and son pass each other in the streets; not only coldly, but tauntingly. The spectacle was indeed pain ful, and we turned away with . a shock.— Both parties are high-toned and passionate, and yet the immediate cause of the quarrel or misunderstanding, as we have since as certained, was a mere trifle. Each, howev er, is obstinate, and thus the bitterness that was engendered in a thoughtless - moment has been increasing and depening, for years.— FalsehOod and deceit are sad demons within the domestic circle. They are constant sour ces of mischief, and are perpetually leading to feuds and misunderstandings. And yet the immutable principle of truth, and the ' priceless beauty of sincerity, are not duly prised anti appreciated. "Almost any other vice," said a father to us some time since, "than that of falsehood. Let me know the worst on all occasions, and a remedy may possibly be applied. • But let prevarication, deceit and falsehood weave a web, and no human foresight can predict the difficulty, and no sagacity unravel the tangled yarn".— ' The error with the many, is to forget what are generally recognized as the minor virtues ' of life—the little Incidents that exercise so powerful a control upon human character and . human happiness. The sweet courtesies, the gentle amenities, the frank outpourings and the .honest sympathies of a sincere and unsophisticated nature, are priceless in their value, and cannot - be too seduously inculca ted and encouraged. On the other hand, the petty vices, the little deceits,„the constant ex aggerations,The narrow envies and the indi rect slanders are calculated at once-to darken and deface, and thus to deform the moral be ing in all time to come. Nothing is more plastic than the young mind—nothing is more yielding than the young heart. They may be likened to clay in the handi of the potter. How . essential, then, that the first impressions should be of the right kind ! That they should be truthful, conscientious, upright, honest and honorable. We have before us a document that furnishes some figures in striking illustration of our subject. It is the first Annual Report of the Trustees of the Main State Reform 'School. From this we learn that the :whole timber of in mates received during the year which termi nated on the 18th of November, 1854, .vas one hundred and seventeen, and that the av erage of the ages was not more than fifteen years. Of these, ninety-seven were idle or had no steady employment, twenty-one had been too much indulged,' forty-six had been neglected, ninety-five had been truants from school, ninety-six had been profane, and one hundred and six had been untruthful. Here, then, we have the whole story. The influ ence of parental discipline, of mental and moral training could not be made more pal pable, if we were to give the details of vol umes. Would that parents and guardians could be induced duly to think of these facts. Would that an' admonition so earnest and emphatic could excite art adequate degree of attention, and induce the hundreds, nay, the thousands, who are neglecting the duties and responsibilities so'solemn and so pressings to remember that there is no higher position on earth than that which involves the educa tion of the human mind, and the human heart, and thus the destinies of the immoral soul. Pennsylvania Inquirer. FACTS.—Physicians rarely take medicine, lawyers seldom go to law, and ministers steer clear of other persons' churches.— Editors, however, read all the papers they can get hold of. HUNTINGDON, APRIL 18. 1855. A NOVEL WOOING. It was on . the return of Mr. F., a lecturer on Phrenology, to the city of 8., that one morning, Harry G. entered his study, and after some desultory conversation, commen ced looking over some phrenologi foal charts, that were arranged before him. While thus engaged, he noticed one of the head of Miss Eniely 8., of C., copiously marked. He ex amined it, and became much interested; as it described a person of an original mind, and superior character. As he laid it aside, Mr. F. said : "The person there described I met during my absence, and she _possessed a mind so well balanced, that f took a chart of her head. I consider her quite a model of fe male worth. She possesses - all the qualities for a good wife and moiher." Now, Harry was - a Young,' man of fine in tellectual powers, which had been impro ved by culture, but he was decidedly odd. He had a spice of romance in his disposition, and was a firm believer in Phrenology. He depended on that science Mainly.to give him an insight into the character of her whom he should choose as a partner for life. The lady in question seemed to possess all those qualifications which he had been so long seeking for; and a most novel idea entered his mind. He determined to write to her, and state his ideas on the subject of matrimony; acquaint her with the . circumstance of seeing the chart of her head, and, request a correspondence with the view, that if it resulted in the mutual satisfaction of both parties, they should meet ; and if they could love, should marry. He acted according ly and requested of Mr. F. a note to the lady, stating the sincerity of his motives, and the respectability of his character; which he en closed in his letter, and forwarded. He wai ted for a week in a state of feverish anxiety ; but at length an answer came, and the lady granted his request. The letter breathed the spirit of modesty and good sense. The_ lady stipulated for six months' correspon dence, after which they were to meet. From this time, they wrote regularly, upon various topics; but the personal ap pearance of each was never once the subject of allusion. Hariy's high opinion of his fair correspondent was enhanced upon the reception of every letter, until he become thoroughly in love with his incognita; and he began most earnestly to long for the ex piratibn of his probation. It was with a beating heart that he took his seat in one of the cars of the railroad which was to convey him to the city of C., where his fair inamo rata resided. Now the question_ was to be solved, could she love him ?- He was not handsome, in the common acceptation of the word, yet he had an intelligent countenance, a dark expres sive eye, and a good figure; but- he forgot all his allvantages of person or station, in his anxiety to create a good impression. He never once asked if she were beautiful; for he felt if she were not positively ugly, he could love. After alighting at a station, and a walk of a few minutes, he found himself before a small but beautiful cottage, which bore marks of taste and refinement in its oc cupants. He knocked, and it seemed to him that his heart knocked full as loudly against his breast as his knuckles knocked against the door. When the door was opened, our lover hero was greeted with an unexpected sight of a diminutive crooked form, a pair of spectacles, and . red hair, which were the principle features in the tout ensemble of his fair receiver. Now, red hair was 'Henry's aversion. The lady, for such she evidently appeared, conducted him to a pretty parlor, where music and books showed the taste of the fair owner. After a short scrutiny, Harry turned to the odd little figure beside him, and requested to see Miss B. "'She is before you," said his companion. He was thunderstruck, and stood gaiing at her without motion, hut at length collected his scattered wits, and tried to commence a conversation "under difficulties." lie intro duced himself as her unknown correspon dent, and explained that be had come to make a personal acquaintance.' She answer ed him with modesty and good sense, tel ling him that their intercourse mast be on the terms of friendship, until they became more intimately known to each other.— They conversed long and pleasantly, and he soon found himself admiring her voice, which was -soft 'and sweet; and before he left, her winning manner had so charmed him, that he had quite forgotten her red hair and spectacles. Thus their intercourse con tinued for a week, at the expiration of which time he made her an Offer of his heart and hand. She hesitated ere she replied, but smiling ly asked, "have' you so far overcome your aversion to red hair and crooked form, as to wish to make me your wife ?" He rsplied that he loved her, and cared not what was the 'color of her hair, so long as she would consent to be his. An answer was promised to be given on the fellowing Morning. As early as propriety would admit, on the next morning, our friend Harry again sought his beloved, but was greatly surprised to be received by one so like, and yet so unlike her to whom he had been paying his court. There she stood, with a sweet smile on her lips, and a laughing light in her hazel eyes, without those distinguished marks of person which had first attracted his notice. He al most doubted his senses, until she spoke in her clear sweet tones, when he sprang for ward, and seizing her hand, begged her to explain the mystery. -She smiled as she said, "you must forgive my ruse, Harry ; you said personal beauty had no weight with you, and I wished to prove you. You see me now in my proper shape.and person. Can you love me as Well as when I wore specs and a red wig 'P' • He could answer only, by gazing admi ringly upon her graceful little figure so del icate,. yet so spirited, and those soft brown curls shading her face, eloquent with sweet- MEM Flarry was of course enchanted. The se quel may I,e guessed. Harry is a firm be liever in Phrenology. Religious Profession The professor of religion follows afar off in the, footsteps of his Divine Master, who cannot be pointed at in matters of every-day life as an -example worthy of imitation. it is a truth, and as sad as it is true, that innu merable men marked for their religious zeal and piety in the sanctuary, are equally mar ked for their doubtful integrity - in the street; just as ready as :a non-professor to drive a sharp bargain, to turn the best side out of an article for sale, and the best side in of one to be purchased, to amass wealth by doubtful expedients and to hold on to it with a grip that death itself is scarcely competent to un close. There is no argument more ready to spring to the lips of the caviler against religion, than the short comings of its ostensibleprofessors; I and one unworthy member of a religious so ciety is afar greater hindrance to its success and prosperity, than a hundred open and avowed enemies Of what avail will it be to the man who fails in business and com promises his debts for the purpose of making a fortune by the financial operation, that he arid his family attend a fashionable church regularly, and observe all the outward forms of religion ? Will the man who received twenty or fifty per cent of an honest debt, when the debtor might have paid the whole, be likely to respect religion the more by these professions ? Men are too apt to estimate the value of any doctrine by the character of those who believe in it, forgetting that professions and practice are not unfrequently: as wide apart as the poles. The more immaculate a genu ine thing may be, the more repulsive does an imitation of it appear; and hence a counter feit christian is little if any better than an incarnate fiend. All men have their imper fections; and therefore christians are not ex empt from the common frailties of humanity; but a trUe follower of the Saviour, even if he does at times • wander from the right path, is quite another thing from the wretch who covers himself with a thin cloak of religious • profession, for the purposes of working out his, filw n selfish and unhallowed purpo- ses It would be well to bear in mind, when an unworthy m3mber, of a religious society comes before .us, that he is not a true and genuine representative of the church militant, and that the Head of the church himself has made the following explicit declaration— " Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter the kingdom of.heaven."— Rural New York. Advice to Youlag"Ladiee Clandestine courtships are not only dishon orable and uncertain,as W. their results, but a base fraud upon the confidence of parents.— They are in all aspect discreditable, because, however pure or sincere, the concealment implies a doubt of the integrity of one of the parties. Either the man is ashamed of the woman, or the woman is ashamed of the, man, or somebody, interested, is ashamed of one or the other of them, or they design to deceive a confiding parent or guardian ; but look at it in any way, or light, the proceeding is disreputable. The young woman compro mises her reputation—for "people will talk," scandal will originate, and society, detesting secrecy in affairs of the heart, is prone to be censorious; and the man, if not restrained by some purity of principle, is ever ready to re gard the woman with suspicion, at least.— They think, with Brabantio, that if a girl de ceives her parents ; she - will deceive others. So, girls, have a care that in attempting to deceive others, you are not yourselves de ceived. From the Germantown Telegraph. Raising Potatoes. MR. EDITOR :—As_,the time of planting this esculent root, the potato, is near at hand it may not be out of place to make a few re marks on its culture. From my experience in raising potatoes, I am convinced that the middle planting, as it is called, is the surest of making a good crop. I know that much depends on the weather ; if it should happen to be dry at the time the potato vines are in blossom and' the potato about forming, we cannot expect much of a crop ; but if, plant ing at a certain season, the rains are more apt to suit the potato, it should be our duty to endeavor to plant our potatoes at that time. 1 have, however, generally divided my time of planting into three periods ; the first, as early in the spring as it will do, sometimes by the first of . April anti sometimes later, ac cording as the spring is forward or backward. At this planting, I put in about one-fourth of the patch. The next or middle planting, is done about the 25th of April, at which time I put in one half of the whole patch ; and the last planting is done from the fifth to the tenth of May, when I put in the remaing one fourth. It sometimes happens that the first or the last planting turns out the best; in case this happens, I am sure of a part of my crap being good. But as the middle planting is generally better than the others, I plant double the quantity -at that time. My reas ons for making three divisions in the crop are obvious, and 1 think the best that can be adopted. ~ , As 1 have now stated my time of planting, with my reasons for so doing, I will proceed to give you the best manner of planting, &c. _A clover sod is superior to any other kind I have ever tried ; and to, obtain this, it is best to clover with the oats, and leave it lay over until the next spring, instead of plow ing up the oats stubble and sowing with wheat. The portion of this stubble intend ed for potatoes should be enclosed with a tem porary fence, and the remaining part May be pastured. Give the clover sod a good coat of manure, or apply four hundred pounds of guano per acre, (the manure is preferable.) If manure is used it should be raked in on the potatoes, after they are dropped ; if gu ano it may be sprinkled in the furrow, and in ' both instances plowed under to the depth 'of four inches. The potatoes should be planted in every second furrow. After the potatoes are planted, a good rolling will be of advan- I tage, as it will level the ground, and fill up 1 f 1 the small hollows. When the potatoes are just corning through, 1 the ground should be thoroughly loosened up by using the square harrow on it. As soon as the pOtatoes are large enough, not to I be covered up, the cultivator should be used, by taking out the two back teeth, and run ning twice on a row. Continue this every few days, until the vines begin to fall. The plow is of no advantage, as it throws the dirt to ; the potatoes, and leaves a furrow between the rows, so that when it rains, the water runs in the furrows, and is thus kept from the roots of the potato. . If this plan is followed, it is hardly possi ble to fail having a fair crop. Some plant pumpkins with their potatoes, and raise a considerable quantity of them ; but probably it tends to draw the virtue of the soil from the potato. Another very essential point in the raising of potatoes, successfully, is that of changing the seed every five or six years. They, like everything else, follow the course of nature, and degenerate when planted in the same soil for any considerable length of time. In proof of this I will give one instance, only. A neighbor about ten years ago, was fortunate enough to secure a smooth kind of Mercers, which when first, planted yield ed very well, so mach, so that all ,the neighbors bought of him and planted. Where they have bought within two or three years, they still raise fine crops, fully equal to When first introduced ; while for the last two of three years he has not had more than half a crop ; therefore, they want changing. I have already lengthened out this much beyond my intentions when commencing, anti will therefore close: Yours, truly, &c., POTATO-RAISER. • 23d Ward, Philadelphia, March 22, 1855. [lam The following is worthy of being com mitted to memory by every one, especially children : Great Washington was number one, . Then senior Adams next came on, Jefferson made the number three, Then Madison the fourth was he, Monroe, the o.h just here came in-- Then sixth au Adams came again, Then seventh Andrew Jackson came, And eighth we count Van Buren's name ; Then Itarvison made number nine, And tenth, John Tyler filled - the litre ; Polk was the eleventh, as we know, The twelfth was Taylor in the row, Fillmore, the thirteenth took his place, And Picrec is fourteenth in the race. VOL. 10, NO. 44, Graduating "There, Mary Jane, go out of the kitchen. Don't pare those apples. Your hands will get stained. You know Mr. Polycarp will come this evening, and wish to hear that polka he gave you." ' "Well, but mother, I was taking a little ex- ercise." "Oh, if you want exercise, just put on your gloves and go in the garden and tie up that geranium the wind broke down last night ; that's far more agreeable employment than to be over the cooking-stove. I would not have your complexion injured, like your cousin's far the world. The other day 1 was at her house to dinner, and she took me into the pantry to see a whole baking she had done, with her own hands, that morning ; and you would have thought so, just to look at her face—as red as a rose. I told her it was a shame for her to get so' heated and she blushed even redder, and said her hus band was so particular about his cooking. I really wonder if ever there was a man,whci was not 'z" "Polyearp is not, in the least, mother ; fur he says, in hie own delightful manner : "how gently down life 'shall our sweet shallop glide, A.s I live on thy smiles, and—nothing beside." So saying, Mary Jane ran out of the kitch en, from which she had often been expelled before. Her mother had been accustomed to attend to everything herself. "It came nat urally'.' to her she said. All her appoint mentS we're, well ordered, and in proper style; her judgment in matters of pastry as Aunt Chloe in Uncle Tom's Cabin ; and as for her darling daughter, she always thought, "let her take her freedom now—by and by she will come under the yoke, and have enough care io wear her down." And so the thoughtless mother allowed the pleasant season to pass away, sending her to dancing-schools to secure ease and grace, and to calisthenies to preserve health, when she ought to have taught her to dance over the house with a broom, and kitchen calisthenies in place of dumb-bells. Boarding-schools, and "Mons. Louis . " on the piano, graduated Miss Mary Jane as a bewitching belle ; at least, so her Mother thought ; and Polycarp, a fashionable silk merchant, felt that some (This newly import ed goods would show favorably on her ele-; gant person ; so he took her to wife, and steered their "light shallop" into the fashion able current, down the river of life, not dreaming of such vulgar words as "concern= ed snags or quicksands - matrimonial." The elegant trosscau, fine furniture, and healthful apartments were all delightful to Mary „lane, so long as the weddingcakei lasted. To be sure odious Irish girls had to be introduced into the new kichen department, and the bright range and marble slab, much too pret ty for them to ruin and deface; her mother said, but the love accommodations did not turn out the "lovely cakes my mother ba ked." Everything went wrong, as Mary thought ; and her pretty, plunip arms, Cover ed with bracelets, and her taper fingers, were often thrust into the coal=seuttle; when the Irish Miss had allowed the fire to' go out just at the wrong Moment. Mary told her cousin Julia after Ward, with many fears, her troubles. "You know its the fashion for ladies to go to market, and I had a fine new basket giv en me by Polycarp; and little Pete carried it for me, and he went down to market for the first time. Such a din, to be sure l I did not dare to move for fear the horses Would throw me down. The binder with hiS'g,reat; greasy apron on, asked me "what piece I. would have," and I said, as timidly as possi- - ble, "a small piece of the fore shoulder if you please," and he laughed' right in tiny face, just as you'.are no:vv . doing Julia and when we roasted it, it was so tough; : and the butter man gave me rancid butter t and the chick - ens I selected turned out tough old hens; and Polycarp says I "shall Make a pretty 'piece of work with the marketing." 1 wish you could see hit; face Julia, when he comes home hungry to dinner.. I can't convince him that vegetables are hurtful in cholera times. I really believe he would revel in this pantry," she continued, following her cousin into the well furnished larder ; "the way that plate of cakes Would disappear, would caution you not to admit him again. I believe, verily ; the poor man has not had an agreeable meal since we were married. If it were only to' play a mazourka, or dance a polka or schot tische, or crotchet, or Jo some of those love ly things, how easy it would be V' Julia was exceedingly amused at this peep behind the rose-curtains of her cousin's do. , rnestic life, but she consoled her as well as she was able, with promising to give her lessons in ' 4- domestic economy," as a sequel to her other accomplishments. liThat is the matter with Mr. Johnson's eyes ?" "Why, he has injured his sight by looking through a thick-bottomed tumbler."