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