LEWIS BURG C EON CIS H. C. HICKOK, Editor: O. N. WORDEN, Printer. TVWTSBUItG CHRONICLE - A IjrrWDT AIH OCXlt, AW on FRIDAY morning! at UwUhurg, Union county, 1'ennsyttama. TXRrS-V.M T 7ar 'h t!ly ! edvanea 1 74, U paid within three months; 2,l if aM within a Jjir 2,&0 if not paid before the Tear expires ; i rents for single ueunBere. Sabseription for six months or less, to be paid ia advance. Dianonttnuanoe optional witu the nutlllier, except when the year i psH up. AevsansxHETrs handsomely inserted at 50 cent per square, aa week, (1 Hot week, fi a rear: two squares, ft fur ix saoatfia, $7 for a year. Mercantile advertise ments, not exceeding one (burtli of a column, $10 a year. JOB WOILK and camial advertisement to be paid for vhea banded la or oeiiverou. " r,;irST a it latteea mast come bost-patd. accompanied by the real aiiJrem of the writer, to rewire attention. ay-Thce reiatiijR cxclusivelv to the fcdiUiria) I department, to be di rected to llEr.T t". Ilicaoa, r.wj., fluwr ww ujoee on busine-a to . N". WonDfcN, PaHuktr. OFFICE (for the present) in Beaver's block on N. 3d St, first floor, 4ih door from corner. 13y Alarm-CIock. An alarm-clock not only tells the time of day, but it can also wake people up in the morning. I have such a clock in my chamber. Every morning about five o' clock, it sets up such a whizzing and ring ing that it wakes me up. 'What a nice way to be roused up," some of my many readers will say. Yes, it is a very good way, JP I ALWATS GET CP WIIEN IT wakes me. Bat last summer, one morn ing, instead of getting op when my clock waked me, I turned over and went to sleep again. The next morning I did the same thing, and in the course of a few days my clock, though it made as loud a noise as ever, would not wake me. "Why how strange," you will say. Strange or not, yet it is true; my clock would not wake me any longer ; it would not wake mc,decausc I did not get out of bed those two or three morning. I had furnicd. the j habit of neglecting it. I have often thought, that my alarm- i clock was very much like one's conscience; J so much like it, that you might call every j . body's conscience, their alarm-clock ' Now, every .person who knows God's I will has such an alarm-clock in his own breast ; so that whenever he is going to do wrong, "whiz!" "whiz'." goes the alarm, saying, "That is not right ; you mast not do that; God sees you." I suppose every reader has had his conscience checking hi in as he was about doing wrong. And if it were not for one's conscience, there is no telling what awful sins we should commit If it were not for cos science, WE MIGHT AIX JUST AS 6005 commit MURDER AS NOT. ITow impor tant it is to have a conseienco that always tells us when we do wrong, and that checks us when we are going to do wrong ! But, wc must hear conscience when it peaks. If we always stop when con science says stop ; if we always do what it tells us to do, then we shall always hear it, and by the help of the Holy Spirit it will keep us from sinning. But if we get into the habit of not doing what conscience tells us to do, after a while we shall not hear it at all ; our conscience will become hardened, and we shall be ready to commit any sin however great In the town in which I live, there is a boy now in jail for breaking into a store at night and stealing money. This boy oncc'went to Sunday-school, and perhaps had as faithful a conscieuec as any boy that reads this paper. But he commenced doing wrong in littlo things. His con science used to say, "Hubert, that is wrong ; yon ought not to do that" But he did not obey his conseience. lie went on doing worse and worse, until, as I lid, he is now in jail for stealing money. Keniciuber, that you always get up when the alarm-clock wake you. Whenever your conscience tells you to do anything, do it ; and whenever it tells you to stop, ftnp. Try to have your conscience instructed by the Bible, and then always obey- it Spirituality. We sometimes hear that class of persons lio are seeking, through the aid of " me dium?," so called, to penetrate the myste ries of a higher life, denominated " spiritu alists." And these persons, so far as our observation goes, regard themselves as hav ing higher spiritual affinities and yearnings then the majority of those around them. Just the contrary is the truth; for, as any one may see, they have no interior spiritual instincts; their minds being so immersed in hat is external and material, that they will not believe until proof comes to the very tens-, of die body. Thus, they require rip pings, writing, and movements of material substances. The true Epiritualist rises in wardly, through purification from evil and f aatjol things, into the perception of spirit ual traths as governing principles of his life; but the false spiritualist (rather ma terialist) descends to lower planes, by mere hearkcuing througa the lodily tetuet, for those utterances which can only be made, discreetly, in a higher sphere. Can we wonder that, as a general thing, these "mediums" deny the inspiration of the Bible, and that, in the erection of their liibel by which to ascend to Heaven, a con fusion of tongues has already seized upon them ! They are blind leaders of the blind, ri if they pause not, must both fall into t!8 ditch. There is no way to Heaven bat I V ..,., . i:r. -- .11 v- t. . iiiiuujju a jmie iuUj u eVli wuv scea, mi "climb up lame other way" will sadly find to their cost. -Arthur' Some Gat. tSfThe following felicitous array of grievances, from an old Magazine, will reach a tender chord in the bosoms of many victimized book-lenders. We would fain hope it might touch the hearts of all miserable, sinful book-keepers, and induce ; them to bring forth works meet for repen. tance go, and sin no more ! Leicitbury Chronicle. It' hard, when those who do set wtak To leud, (that' Iom.) their book. Are eaared by angler loll that flab Willi literary hook; Who call and get some faeoriU tome. But never read ft through; (They tliui complete their "act" at home, bj making one at yon!) Just ate that book-shelf of a danra Who borrow never lend; Ton work, in twenty volume, oaoa Belonged ls twenty friend. New tale and novel yoa may ihut From view but all in vain ; They're pVuel and though the leave art "cat," Tuey uerer Mcom again.1 For pamphlet, too, I look around. For tract my tear are spill ; And when they take a book that' bound, It' (uiely extra-gilt. A circulating library I mine my bird are flown ; There's one odd-volume left, to ba lake all the reft, a loo. I, of my Spmttr quite bereft, liett winter sore v ffbakt-n ; Of Lnmb I've but a quarter left, JVor could 1 ave my Boom. Sly IIM and 1101 were leveled Sat, V-t .V'Kjre wa still the cry ; And then, although I threw them Sprat, They ewailowcd up my 'ye. O'er everything-, however alight, Th-y seix'id euine airy trammel ; Tory Miatehed H 19 and one night, Aud pocketed njy CvmpbclL And thin I nv my Crab!. a la.t. Like Uiuiilvi'e, beck ward go; Autl s my Ltle wa ebi.iug taftt, Of cwuree 1 lot my itaiee. I worvlerel into what bal'onn My bjoliii their couree bad bent; Atnl yet, vrilh ail my marveling, aooa 1 uim1 uiy Mn teit Went. My il-tUti scrvi-d to knock me down, VI bill! make we that a talker; And unci, when 1 was out of town, My John proved a H'aVrtr. While fltndyirg o'er the Are one day My U-Mt, amiilat tu moke, They I -ore my tome clean away, And carried off my CJbfc. They pit-ked my Zorkt, to me far mora Tuau Urahmaa' patent' worth; And now my loe I deplore Without a liomt oa earth. If once a book yoa let them lift, A noihcr tbey conceal ; For ttroe-h I raogiit them atealtag Stcifl, Aa BWifUy went my Steele. Hope ia not now ttpon the shelf, V- here late be utood elatoil ; And. straoger still, my ty himself J axcamuunicaied. My little Svt&Hng in the grave la oW. (m, w. M n . lip I , And what 'twa Craoe' fata to Save, Twas mine to lose a oareys. Even C7orerf works I eaa not pat ily frosrn hands npoa ; Though, ever since 1 lost my bote. My majaw ha been gona. And ifevfe with Caffoa went oppressed, Our Tueler too d-d (ail; To save my GnltUmiih from arrest, In Tain I offered Zaiyi. I Prior sought, but ooald not see The IIouU so late in front ; And when I turned to bant fir Zcs, Ob! where wa my Lagk Hnlt I tried to laa;h, old Cars to tickle, Vet euuld not TtcktU touch ; Aud then, alack 1 1 miesvd my JtficHs, Aad surely mickle 'a much. It' quite enough my griefs to feed, 31 v Mrrue- lo excuee, Tu think I esn not read my Aod, Nor even use my iYeyAe. To Wat, to mth, I tarn my head, Exposed alike to odd cheers; For ore my Rytr Atcham't fled, 1 aek in vain for Mogtn. There's rare an Eye that marks a well The bhweom a the sparrow ; rnaeea by me. my Lilly !!, Twas taken in my ISarnm. They took my ILtrne. and ITonu Ifee&e too, And thus my treaaures flit; I fear, when 1'would HatiiLX view, The flames that it has lit, . My word's worth little, Wurdiwnih gone, If I survive its doom; Bow many a bard 1 doated oa Was swept off with my Brotm. My classics would not quiet Ue, A thing so fondly hjqed ; Like Doctor Primrose, 1 may cry, -ily Lirt ha eloped i My life I wasting fast away 1 suffer from tlioe shocks 1 And though I've fixed a lock oa Cray, 1 here's rey upon my locks. Tm far from Tng in growing pile 1 see my B-UIrr fly. And when they ask about mj kit, 'In Burton" I reply. Tbey still have made me slight returns. And thus my griefs divide; They have removed from nts my iatirai . 1 have ao Akennult. Bat all I think I shall not say, Nor let my anger bora ; For as they never found me Gey, Tbey have not left sae &crae. B. The Old Soldier. I have often occasion to pass through a villago on the St Albans road, says a correspondent of Eliza Cook's Journal, at the end of which there is so tidy and con venient a public house, that I always give my horse his bait there, if I happen to be traveling in my gig. I had frequently observed an old soldier who having lost an eye, a leg, and an arm, in the service of his country, had pretty well earned the privilege of idling away the rest of his life in a manner particularly congenial with the habits of his calling. What most interested me about this man was his love for yonng children. lie was generally surrounded by a parcel of curly headed urchins ; and often have I seen the mistress of the little inn consign her infant to the protection of his one arm, when by an arrival, sho had been called upon to attend to the business of the house. The old fellow never appeared so well contented as when thus employed. Ilia pipe was laid aside, his beer forgotten, and he would oniy tbuk of amusing and caressing his LEWISBUKG, UNION COUNTY, PENN., FRIDAY, MAY 13, 1853. little charge, or of lulling it to sleep. The bigger children would cluster round him, clamber over him, empty his pipe, upset his can, take all sorts of liberties with him, yet never meet with a rebuke. At times, however, he would appear lost in uneasy thought ; gazing with earnestness upon the features of the sleeping infant, while the tears would course down his cheeks. As I drove one morning up to the door of the inn, and passed the bench on which the old soldier was, as usual, sitting, with his little flock of children playing aronnd him, one of them, a very young one, sud denly backed into the road, and in another moment more would have been crushed ; but the old man sprang forward, with a vigorous and wonderful effort he seized the child with his only arm, and threw it scv ral feet out of the way of danger ; he fell with the exertion, and was among my horse's feet In suddenly drawing np, I bad unwittingly done my very worst by the poor fellow ; for I had caused the ani mal to trample upon him a second time, and a wheel had likewise passed over his body. He was taken np insensible. We car ried him to a bed, and after a little time recovered bis recollection. But he was so severely injured that we feared every mo ment would be his last The first words he uttered were, " The child ! the child 1 We assured him the child was safe ; but he would not believe and it became necessary to send into j the village to search for the little creature, who had been hurried home with the oth- jcrs upon the confusion which the accident I had occasioned. Ho continued to call for ' the child, and was in the greatest distress I of mind till we had found it, aud had ta-j ken it to him as he lay. His delight at a look of earnestness, that, had I not fan seeing it alive and unhurt was intense ; he ! cied I could trace through the folds of his wept, Le laughed, he hugged it to his bo-1 som, and it was not till he grew very faint and weary that ho would suffer us to re move it A surgeon arrived and prononnccd that the poor man was so much hurt, inwardly as well as outwardly, that nothing could be done to save him, and desired ns merely to givo him cordials or cooling drink, as he should appear to wish for either. He lingered for a few days. I had been the eanao, tkotxgb. anrxaoantty, of the poor fellow's death : of course I took care that all was done that could al leviate his sufferings ; and as long as he lasted, I went every day to pass a few hours by his bedsido. The rescued child, too, was brought to him each day by his own desire. From the moment he had ascertained that it was unhurt, ho had been calm and contented. He knew he was dying, but he could part with life ; without regret ; and the cloud which I had so oftenobserved upon his weather-beaten ! countenance befnre the aceidiinf.rii'vnraflf.r! returned. The day before he died, as I was watch ing alone by his side, he asked me for cor dial. Soon after he had swallowed it, he laid his hand npon my arm and said, " Sir, if you will not think it too great a trouble to listen to an old man's talk, I think it will ease my mind to say a few words to you. He was, of course, encouraged to pro ceed. " I have had a load upon my heart, which is not quite removed, but it is a eo9.r iloal 1!jlitAnA.l T iiaaa l.ni n 1 n glMt, llHIVUbUi a UA.O r.l fell O means, under Providence, of saving a young child's life. If I have the strength to tell you what I wish, sir, you will un derstand the joy that blessed thought bro't to my heart" I gave him another cordial, ho spoke as follows : " It was in a stirring time of tho Duke of Wellington's wars, after the French had retreated through Portugal, and Badajos had fallen, and we had driven them fairly over the Spanish frontier, the light division was ordered on a few of their long leagues further, to occupy a line of posts among the mountains which rise over the North ern banks of the Guadiana. A few com panies of our regiment advanced to occupy a villa which tho French Lad just aban doned. " We had a brisk march over a scorched and rugged country, which had already been lansacked of all that would have supplied us with fresh provisions ; it was many days since we had heard the creak of a commissary's wagon, and we had been on very short commons. There was no reason to expect much in the villa we were now ordered to. The French, who had just marched out, would, of course, have helped themselves to whatever was portable, and n ust have previously pretty well drained the place. We made search, however, judging that, possibly, something might have been concealed from them by the peasants; and we actually soon discov red several houses where skins of wine had been secreted. EYery howo and hovel was searched and many a poor fellow, who had contrived to hide his last skin of wine from hit ene- mies, was obliged to abandon it to his allies. Yon might see the poor natives on all sides running away ; some with a mor sel of food, others with a skin of wine in their arms, and followed by the menaces and staggering steps of the weary and half-drunken soldiers. . " Wine ! wine !" was the cry ia every part of tho village. "Wine! I ask for wine !" said I, to a poor half starved, and ragged native, who was stealing off, and hiding something under his torn cloak; "wine ! you beggar ly scoundrel I give me wine 1" said I. " I have no wine," he cried, as he broke from my grasp, and ran quickly and fear fully away. " I was not very drunk I had not had above half my quantity and I pursued him up a street But he was the fleeter ; and X should nave lost him, had I not made a sudden turn, and come right npon him, in a forsaken alley, where I supposed the poor thing dwelt I seized him by the collar He was small and spare, and he trembled under my gripe ; but still be held his own, and only wrapped his clflak the closer round his property. " Wine 1 1 ask for wine !" said I; " give me wine " My child ! I have only my child," he repeated. "I had already drawn my bayonet. I ' am ashamed, sir, to say, that we used to do that to terrify the poor wretches, and make them the sooner give np their liquor. As I held him lv the collar with one Land, I pointed the bayonet at his breast j with the other, and again cried, " Wine '" i " 1 have no wine you know I have no wine;" and be spoke tho words with such cloak the very shape of a small wiuc-skin, I should have believed him. " Lying rascal !" said I, "to you won't give me the liquor ? Then the dry earth shall drink it I" and I struck the point of my bayonet deep into that which ha was still hugging to -his breast " Oh, sir ! it was not win that trickled downit was blood, warm blood ! and a piteous wail went like a chill across my heart I The poor Spaniard opened his cloak; he pointed to his wounded child ; and his wild eye asked n plainer bn words could havo done, " Monster ! arc you satisfied?" " I was sobered in a moment I fell upon mj knees beside the infant, and i tried to staunch the blood. Yes, the poor les shore, lie goes, and Punkville is fellow understood the truth ; he saw and treated for the next six months, to a tirade he accepted my anguish ; and we joined in on tna President and Cabinet, or, (which our efforts to save the little victim. O, it ' pe'baps, the better way,) is mado to bo was too late. Here, that their great man at homo was a " The little boy had fastened his small clammy hands round a finger of each of! us. He looked at ns. alternate v. and I seemed to ask, alike from his father and ! his murderer, that help which it was be yond the power of one of earth to give. Tho changes in the poor child's counten ance showed that it had few minutes to live. Sometimes it lay still, I thought tho last pang was over, when a slight convul sion would agitato its frame, and a mo mentary pressure of its little hands would give the gasping father a short vain ray of hope. " You may believe, sir, that an old sol dier, who has only been able to keep his own life at the expense of an eye and two of his limbs who has lingered out many day in camp hospital after a hot engage ment must have learned to look on death without any unnecessary concern. I have sometimes wished for it myself; and often have felt thankful when my poor, wounded comrades have been released by it from pain. I have seen it, too, in other shapes, I havo seen the death-blow dealt, when the effects have been so instant that the brave heart's blood has been spilt, and the pulses have ceased to beat, while tho streak of life and health was still fresh upon tho check when a smile has remained upon the lips of my brother-soldier, even after he had fallen a corpse across my path. But, O, sir ! what is all this compared with what I suffered as I watched life ebb slow ly from the wound which I had myself so wantonly inflicted in the breast of a help less, innocent child ! It was my mistake by accident 0, yes; I know it well; and day and night I have striven to forget that hour. But it is of no use ; that pite ous wail is ever in my ear 1 That father's agony will follow me to the grave I" From tbe Cleveland Flainaealer. Little Great Den In Washington. Great men, back in the country, are lit tle men in Washington. They find ten thousand other men as great as themselves Tbey lose their indentity, like a pea in a barrel of peas. They are drops in the wave of Senators, Representatives, Gover nors, and illustrissimi, that surges np and down the avenue. Our little great man don't look for this, and he is disappointed I at every turn. On his arrival he goes to j the biggest hotel, and enters his name in a bold, staring hand. He expects tho land- lord, when he sees it, to salaam the ground in adoration. The landlord merely nods, as he might to an ostler, and resumes his business. "I'll take," says the little great man, " a parlor and bed room in the second story," for he means to sit in state and receive distinguished guests. "All fall,' is the answer: " now putting down cots in the garret you can have half a one. The omnipotent of a county or town is driven to share the precarious fortunes of a straw tick, with another great man, as little as himself. This is the precursor and type of his Washington experience. He visits the the White House and sends up his card. " Here,' he says pensively, " my name is known." The servant re turns: "Can't see you," he announces. " too busy.' " When did he say I should call ?" asks the little great man faintly. " Said nothing about it," is the reply. " Ah ! hum !" and tho little great man walks away, sucking the knob of his um brella, and swearing condign vengeance on the President " Punkville," he mutters, "shall hear of it." The Departments next engross his attention. There at least he will be welcome. His pasteboard over tures are here likewise spurned. Finally, he obtains access to the Tost Master Gen eral or the Secretary of the Treasury, but he is one of an " undistinguishable throng." There is no sitting down for an hour, chat ting familiarly over a cigar, picking out a snug berth for himself, and comfortably arranging Punkville affairs after his own heart He is a nobody amon nobodies, and, as he has nothing particular to say for' himself, ho concludes to retire. The little great man loam 3 for the first! that he is "no great shakes" at Washing-! ton. His indignation gradually ebbs, as! he sees ten thousand other little great men I in the fix.. He moderates his ambition, j At first he repudiated any thing smaller than a foreign mission, a consulship, or the ; head of a bureau. He will now take a! clerkship, an agency, or any other little' trifle of that sort. Bat, humiliating spectacle ! Even this is denied him ! The little great man generally retires with others of his sort, at this crisis, and gets exceedingly diunk. A horriblo fascina tion still chains him to the capital. He has a vsgno gacpeateilton of jret SCCQrlDg A prize. He is only wakened from the plea sing delusion, by the consciousness of diminished means. He must harry home or stranded high and dry on a borrow- gnat man abroad, and ate, rode, slept, talked and drank with the "powers that be." on the most intimate and confidential terms, but for some mysterious reason that be don't choose to explain, didn't get an office for his own use or for any body's else. Public Dinners Are public nuisances flagrantly so. They are a relio of out-grown barbarism which esteems eating and drinking the chief ends of life, and would show affection as Joseph did to his brother Benjamin by giving him threo times as great a mess as was apportioned to his half-brothers. It is every way unworthy of our age to attempt to honor, reward or show admiration for a public benefactor by feasting him, even when (as at Boston yesterday) Intoxicat ing Liquors are excluded. But an ordina ry Public Dinner, "with a stick in it," is essentially a bestial performance. Two or three hundred people arc assembled to eat an inordinate meal, at an unusual and unseasonable hour, paying for it a sum that many of them cannot really afford, and washing it down with incessant liba tions of villainously drugged cider and cockroach Madeira, which gets steadily worse as the company get more and more enthusiastically aud obliviously drunk then the speeches beginning with the prosy and the foggy and ending, somewhere in the infancy of the small hours, with the tipsy and the nasty then the leathery cloud of cigar-smoko which, for the last hour or two, is battened down upon the whole concern, afflicting, torturing, dem oralizing all well-bred, cleanly, nncorrup ted senses and ah ! tho sick headaches, the days of misery, and often tho fatal illness that follow, as Death on the Pale Horse was followed on tho whole, we consider the Public Dinner the absurdest, stupidest bore of tho XlXth Century. So we did not attend tho Dinner given yesterday at Boston to Joint P. Hale we did not even respond to the invitation as perhaps we onght to have done. We might have written a oivil line, bnt the memory of past visitations in the shape of Publie Dinners was so vivid and so disa greeable, that we did not feel like assis ting at another, even by letter. Aw Turk Tnbynt. His. Stove in Great Britain. The authoress of "Uncle Tom's Cabin" has received such honors in Js.nglanil as were never bestowed npon any American, at least upon any American lady. j The E linburg Scotsman of 20th April ! says she "arrived from Glasgow yesterday afternoon. For a considerable time previ ous to the hour of the train's arrival, the platform of the railway station was thronged by many hundreds of ladies and gentlemen waiting nominally to welcome, but actu ally to look at Mrs. Stowc, who is, with out doubt, the greatest ' lion' of the season Oa the Weavcrly Bridge, atao, a large crowd had collected. As Mrs. Stowe step, ped from the railway carriage, a chce: was raised, and the greeting continued as she passed along the platform leaning on the arm of the Lord Provost toward his Lordship's carriage, which was in atfen- daacc, and into which Professor and Mrs. Stowc, accompanied by bis Lordship im mediately entered. The carriage then drove slowly np the sloping road from the railway and along the Wcaverlcy Bridge toward Princes' -st., surrounded by crowds eager to catch a glimpse of the world-fa mous author of " Uncle Tom's Cabin." In pursuit of this laudable object it mn.t be confessed that several persons broke through all ordinary laws of decency and politeness by hanging on the sides of the carriage and "glowering" in for some minutes as if at the inmates of a wild beast caravan. By the increased pace of the carriage these encumbering admirers were gradually shaken off, but throughout its route westward along Princcs'-st it was constantly attended by successive groups of running footmen. 5Irs. Stowe was very plainly dressed, and seemed both startled and gratified by the extreme warmth of her reception. In company with Mr. Wighatn, whose guests Mr. and Mrs. Stowe arc, she and her party visited the Castle, the University, Heriot's Hospital and the other points of interest in the city. Ia the eveninc a banquet in honor Of -"Irs. Stowe, and in promotion of the Anti- Slavery cause was held in tho Music HalL About 1.500 persons were present, the Lord Provost (Mayor) in the Chair, sup ported by a band of Clergymen, mostly Dissenters.' Afterward the " Uncle Tom Penny Offering," a contribution collected in small sums throughout Scotland, wa banded to Mrs. Stowe, in the shape of 1,000 sterling, with a request that she would expend it in whatever way she might consider best to advance the Abo litionist cause. The cash was presented upon a silver salver, a gift to Mrs. Stowe personally from the Edinburg ladies. Pro fessor Stowe read his wife's reply." The Disobedient Kitten. ."Now," said one old puss to one of her children, as she washed her face and paws, "I charge you, Kitty, not to go into the next gentleman's yard, for great dog Jow ler lies there; be has horrid teeth and a terrible snarl, and he is always on tbe look out for stray cats. Remember, and keep at home; we have a snug garden, a sweet haymow, kind friends, capital titbits, and work enough rats and mice plenty. So do not stroll off with bad company, visit ing places where you have no business to be, and disgracing your bringing np; for you know better, Kitty, you do." But Kitty bad a saucy look ; she bxcd her mother's ears, in play to be sure, hoisted her tail, and away she tricked after a dead leaf. Kit did not look at all like minding, and after her mother had gone to bed on the haymow, sho kept up her moonlight rambles, going about nobodv knows where, and cutting up all sorts of. capers, like a silly little Kit as she was. One night when she and some of her thoughtless companions were scudding asross Jowler's yard, he, much disturbed by their noise at an hour when he thought all honest folks ought to be abed and asleep started np and mado after them in a vio lent rage ; and poor Kitty, in her fright, got entangled in sonio briar-bushes, and so fell into Jowler's power. He seized her by the neck with his terriblo mouth, shook the breath out of her body, and tos sed her over tho fence. . " Oh, oh I" cried Mary and Willy, when J ' , uci av utile nit;. i iitiau utuii.v Dim mu , U th . vncrvmr, f HI, " -rlo.l It.ote I i . i-..t . j mother, pussy s mistress, " you little pussd v , . , she bid me fair to be an excellent mouscr. "O dear," Tnewed the old cat, "O dear I t such are the fruits of disobedience. How many a wilful child comes to an untimely end." Child" i peper. The Parmer. Weeds and Weeding. Tho remedies proposed fur doing away with weeds, arc only exceeded in number by tho number of weeds themselves but among the many methods some may be adopted with propriety. Soroo weeds of the smaller hinds aro destroyed by burn ing a slight coating of litter en the ur- VOLUME X.NO. 5. Whole Number, 473. face of the soil in early spring, and i kct gardeners so prepare soil for raising cabbage plant. Many kinds of tbe smal ler weeds are destroyed by a coating of six bnshel of common salt per acre after plow ing, and a few days before planting. Soum weeds, embracing quite a largo class, may be done away with by two plowing at few weeks apart, and when the field is in tended for late crops, this may readily be. done. Where a neglected corner is so fall of weeds that tbey cannot be got rid of by ordinary means, then salt the soil so heavi ly as to destroy all growth, and by laming the use of it for one year, and adding lime with a full plowing, such salted soil will be found clear of weeds the following sea son and of improved fertility. The ulti mate constituents of salt (chlorine nul so ta) are not unfriendly to vegetation, and they soon separate in the soil by chemical influences, and thus cease to be salt Hoot and other hoed crops enable ns to get rid of many weeds, when the crops receive proper attention thus a carrot crop, if properly attended, will secure the) removal of weeds. The uso of properly constructed cultivators among root crop if used sufficiently often, will save much labor in the removal of weeds, for they will turn out every weed between the rows, leaving those only in the rows to be re moved by hand or by the hand hoe. The use of the push or ttvffle hoe in skillful hands, will do much to save the soil front weed; if applied to a proper depth in a well disintegrated soil, it cuts off the weeds and in the back action draws thorn above tho surface, to decay without replanting the root,'. Horso-hocs are also constructed so as to cut weeds deeply, and to leave the entire weed, root and all, on the sur face to decay. Never leave weeds a few days longer, because they are not going to seed. Largs weeds seldom come forth with so much of their roots as smaller ones, and then their increased size robs other plants of their proper food, nor will their decay on the surface restore all they have robbed, again to the soil, for a large part of the nitro genous portion of their constituents will be lost in the atmosphere. Salt, and lime mixture, used in composts, destroys the accidental weed seed from -the stable, bj assisting ia their more perfect decompo sition. Hog-pen manure will decompose with such violence as to destroy many, and when the divisor used is decomposed muck or charcoal braze, the ammonia in not lost even by so violent a decomposi tion. Working runner. Apples. fgyFrom the Transactions pf the Penn sylvania Horticultural Society, we derive ' the following notices of new varieties. ' From II.Ji.X'M, of Lewisburg, Union tS.. . Pa., specimens of two varieties Apples : 1. Tbe Adams a Pennsylvania Seed ling, which originated with James Adams. of White Deer township, Union county. and noticed under the name of Noll s No. 1, in tbe ad interim Report for Not. last. Large; roundish oblate; faintly mottled and striped with red on a greenish yellow: ground ; stem half-inch long and one- ninth to one-sixth of an inch thick; cavity broad, acute ; calyx rather large, segments closed ; basin wide, moderately deep, plai ted ; Hesii greenish white, of fine texture. . rather juicy; flavor pleasant; quality very "good." The specimens -""nintd oa the 11th of Not. were only regarded aw : gootf, being somewhat dry and mealy. 2. The Major a native of Pennsylr- i ania. This spslo originated with Main Samuel M'Mahan, of Chiilisquaque, Nor- ttiuraberland county. Size larg; round ish ; red, sometimes blended with yellow on the shaded side. Stem variable in length, of medium thickness ; cav.fy rather wide, moderately deep; basin-Tincven,shal ilow; flesh yellowish, crisp ; flavor pleas ant, agreeably saccharine, and resembles in some measure, that cf the Carlhonsc, to which, however, it is superior; quality "very good." A Fact roa Farm r.r.s. Tho voice cf cxperieneo everywhere bns declared In favor of drilling in wheat in p refr-rence tr af.at-iff bmaticri't, according to tbe old Tl'tear ll.! ' ' 7 niif n rii ' "" " " rrrr,i,oif, looks better where tbe drill n used, andl .. ... x (in most instances) so marked is tho dif- . , , ' - " ' . ' " - ff ISA nnnraaaiAi. ttitaf - Hl the impression that the grain will mora than repay the cost of drilling. Fanners, abandon your Old Fogy notions, and keep up with the improvements of tho sgc. A penny saved is not always a peniiy earned. ! There is snch a thing as bung-hole econo my, and many quite loo many will coc tinuo to practice it So testifies, tntlj, tbe "Berks & Schuylkill Journal," ef Reading. Agricultural Society,. The Officers of the Unint Coifoty AgTt. cultural Soeicfy aro notiScd to meet; at the Court House in New Berlin a. 1 V.ock P. M. cf Tuosday, 17th May " ' ' i
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers