Huntingdon globe. ([Huntingdon, Pa.]) 1843-1856, April 18, 1855, Image 1

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BY W. LEWIS.
THE HUNTINGDON GLOBE,
Per annum, in advance, $1 50
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are paid.
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sidered a new engagement.
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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."