Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, September 02, 1845, Image 1

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    HUNTINGDON JOURNAL
ffainfin anuopaper—Debottly to general. *Matti:trim, ntitertirsing, Votttito, atterature, Rrto, *drum, agriculture, anutocntent, fizr,,Szt.
4 QP`aaa,, a Ectp. C13d0.0
PUBLISHED EY
JAMES CLARK.
( ?:2 az.maGm.
The "Jounkat." will be published every Wed
nesday morning, at $2 00 a year, if paid in advance,
and if not paid within six months, $2 50.
No subscription received for a shorter period than
'six months, nor any paper discontinued till all ar
'rearages are paid.
Advertisements not exceeding one square, will be
insetted three times for $1 00, and for every subse
'quern insertion 25 cents. If no definite orders are
given as to the time an advertisement in to be continu
ed, it will be kept in till ordered rut, , ind charged ac
eOrdingly.
POM'I'RT.
"To charm the languid hours of solitude
lio oft inviter her to the Muse's lore."
SPEAK GENTLY.
Speak gently !—it is better far
To rule by love, than fear—
Speak gently—let not harsh words mar
The good we might do here!
Speak gently !—Love doth whisper low
The vows that true hearts bind ;
And gently Friendship's accents flow;
Affection's voice is kind.
Speak gently to the little child,
Its love be sure to gain ;
Teach it in accents soft and mild
It may not long remain.
Speak gently to the young, for they
Will have enough to bear,
Pass through this Zile as best they may,
"Pis full of anxious care !
peak gently to tho aged one.
Grieve not the care-worn heart,
Thu sands of life are nearly run,
Lot such in peace depart.
Elpeak gently, kinkly to the poor;
Let no harsh tone bo heard ;
They hare enough they niust endure,
Without an unkind word!
Speak gently to the erring—know,
They have toiled in vain ;
Perchance unkindnea made them ao ;
Oh, win them back again !
Speak gently !—He who gave his life
To bend man's stubborn will,
When elements were in fierce strife,
Said to them, " Peace, be still."
Speak gently !—'tie a little thing
Dropped in the heart's deep well;
The good, tho joy which it may bring,
Eternity shall tell.
PRAYER.
Go when the morning ehineth,
Go when the moon is bright,
Go when the eve declineth,
Go in the hush of night;
Go with pure mind and feeling,
Fling earthly thoughts away,
And in thy chamber kneeling,
Do thou in secret pray.
Remember all who love thee,
All who are loved by thee.
Pray for those who hate thee,
If any such there be.
Then for thyself in meekness,
A blessing humbly claim.
And link with each petition
Thy Great Redeemer's name,
Or if 'tis ere denied thee
In solitude to pray,
Should holy thought. come o'er thee
When friends are round thy way;
E'en then the silent breathing
Of thy spirit raised above,
Will reach His throne of glory,
Who is Mercy, Truth and Love,
Ohl not a joy or blessing,
With this can we compare,
The power that he has given us,
To pour out our souls in prayer!
When thou pirest in sadness,
Before his footstool fall,
And remember in thy gladness,
His grace who gave the all.
NEW Doo Sronv.—A Brussels paper states, l
that a nobleman, for a wager, rode round the whole
boulevard of that city, in a light two wheeled car
mige, drawn by 18 small Scotch terriers. harnessed
vlx abreast. He drove them with whip and reins
at full speed, followed by all the fashionable and
sporting men of that city, accomplishing the task
in 33 minutes. After it was over, the charioteer
coolly released the dogs from their harness, wrapped
each of them in a small blanket, and carefully lai , l
them in his own carriage, into which one or his
grooms also stepped, and returned with them to his
lordship's residence. The nobleman himself walk
ed home, having pocketed £OOO by his feat.
Lovc.—Charles Lever, in his new work of St.
Patrick'. Eve,' remarks on the tender passion as
follows :—The game of love is the same, whether
the players be clod in velvet or in hodden gray.—
Beneath the gilded ceilings of a palace, or the low
ly rafters of a cabin, there are the same. jealousies,
and distrusts, and desponding. ; for after ell, the
stake is human happiness, whether he who risks it
be a peer or a peasant!'
(Cr We find the following notice. of marriages
in one of our exchanges:
Al! Right—Mr. Levi All, to Mien Jane Wright.
Not so.--It a Wright All!
!:':ort and Sweet.—Mr. James Short, to Miss
EcuLn.)
Wrong again—lt's all Short !
GtOg Aland.—Mr. John Going, to Miss A.
.
And egaln.—A Hood io VoilE
IZ9IM3Li-I:2l3DaU3l:lEllia a.E2142.e.).
From Arthur's Ladies' MagaL-ine for July.
How to Correct a Husband's Faults,
BY FANNY ORA,
Now just look at you, Mr. Jones ! I declare !
it gives me a chill to see you go to a drawer. What
do you want Tell me! and I will get it for you.
Mrs. Jones springs to the side of her husband,
who has gone to the bureau for something, and
pushes him away.
There now ! Just look at the hurra's nest you
have made! What do you want, Mr. Jones 1'
The husband throws en angry look upon his wife
mutters something that she cannot understand, and
then turus away and leaves the room.
4 It is too bad !' scolds Mrs. Jones, to herself, com
mencing the work of restoring to order the drawer
her husband had thrown all topsy turvy. I never
saw such a man ! He has no kind of order about
him ; sod then, if I speak a word, he goes off into
a huff. But I won't have my things forever in con
fusion.'
In the meantime, Mr. Jones, in a pet, leaves the
house, and goes to the store without the clean pock
et handkerchief for which he had been in search.—
Half the afternoon passes before he gets over his ill
humor, and then he does not feel happy. Mrs.
Jones is by no means comfortable in mind. She is
sorry that she spoke so roughly, although she does
not acknowledge, even to herself, that she has done
wrong, for every now and then she utters, half aloud
some censure againgt the careless habits that were
annoying and inexcusable. They had been mar
ried five years, and all that time Mre. Jones had
complained, but to no good purpose. Sometimes
the husband would get angry, and sometimes he
would laugh at his wifo ; but he made no effort to
reform himself,
Mr. Jones, why Will you do so?' sold Mrs. Jones
on the evening of the same day, 'you aro the most
trying man alive.
Pity you hadn't a chance to try another,' retort
ed Mr. Jones, sarcastically.
The offence given was a careless overturning of
Mrs. Jones' work basket, and tho scattering of nee
dles, cotton, scissors, wax, and a dozen little etcet
eras about the floor.
The reply of Mr. Jones hurt his wife. It seemed
unkind. He had brought home a now book which
he intended reading, but the faro cf m.. tones look•
wf Rr , Q r,o „r,„ n~ar ,ue work basket
that he felt no disposition to read to her, but con
tented. himself with enjoying the book to himself.
It must be said that Mr. Jones was a very trying
man indeed, as his wife had alleged. He could open
closets and drawers as handy as any one, but the
thought of shutting either never entered his mind.
The frequent reproofs of his wife, such as—
, Had you any doors in the House where you
were raised or
Please to shut that drawer, will you, Mr.
Jones!' or
'You are the moot disorderly man in exiotenee
4 lou are enough to try the patience of a saint,
Mr. Jones!' produced no good effects. In fact,
Mr. Jones seemed to grow worse and worse every
day instead of better. Tho naturul habits of order
and regularity which his wife possessed, were not
respected in the least degree. Ho drew his boots in
the parlor, and left them in the middle of the floor
—put his hat on the piano, instead of hanging it
on the rack in the passage—left his shaving appa
ratus on the dressing table or bureau—splashed tho
water about and soiled the wall paper in washing,
and spite of all that could be said to him, would
neglect to take the soap out of the basin—spattered
every thing around him with blacking when he
brushed his boots—and did a hundred other careless
things, that gave his wife a world of trouble, which
annoyed her safely, and kept her scolding, which
worried him a good deal ; but hawser for a single
moment made him think seriously of reforming his
bad habits.
One day he came into dinner. It was a hot day.
He went up into the chamber where his wife was
sitting, and threw himself into a large rocking bed
right in the midst of half a dozen lace collars new
ly done up—and kicked off his boots with such en.
ergy that one of them landed upon the bureau, and
the other its the clothes basket, soiling a white dress I
just from the ironing table. Poor Mrs. Jones was 1 ,
grievously tired. The husband expected a storm,
but no storm broke. Ho looked at hie wife, as she
lifted his hat from the bed and put it on the mantel
piece, and took his boots and put thorn in a closet
from which she brought out his slippers and placed
them beside him, but he did not understand the ex
pression of her face exactly, nor feel comfortable
abort it. Mrs. Jones did not seem angry but hurt.—
After she had handed him his slippers, she took the
soiled dress from the clothes basket, over which she
had spent nearly half an hour at the ironing table,
and attempted to remove the dirt which the boot
had left upon it. But she tried in vain. The pure
white muslin was hopelessly soiled, and would have
to go to the washing tub before it would be again
fit to wear.
If you knew,Henry,' she said in a voice that
touched her husbands feeling, as she laid aside the
dress, how much trouble you giro me 'sometimes,
I am sure you would be more particular.'
'Do I really give you much trouble, Jane?' Mr.
Jones asked, as if a new idea had broken its upon
his mind. 'I am sure lam sorry for it.'
Indeed you do. If you would only be more
thoughtful, you would save me a great deal, I shall
have to wash out the dress myself, now the washer
woman is gone, end I een't tra,t ` 4 •211y With ;;
/pent nearly half an hour in ironing it to day, as
Dl u it is,
'I am Very sorry indeed, ism It was a careless
trick in me, I must confess ; and if you will for
give me, I will promise not to offend you again.'
All this was new. Both Mr. and Mrs. Jones
felt surprised at themselves and at each other. He
had offended and she did not get angry I she lied
been annoyed and he was really sorry for what he
had done. Light broke into both their minds, and
bolls made an instant resolution to be more careful
in future of their words and actions towards each
other; and they were more careful. When Mr.
Jones offended, as he still too often did, his wife
checked the instane impulse she felt to upbraid him.
He perceived this, and appreciating her self-denial,
compelled Iliumlf in consequence, to bo more or
derly in his habits. A few years wrought so great
a change in Mr. Jones that to use an hyperbole, ho
hardly knew himself. He could shut a closet door
as vrellas open it—he could got a handkerchief, or
any thing else from the drawer, without turning it
upside down—could hang his hat upon the rack
and put Isis boots away when ho took them off.—
In fact he could be as orderly as any one, and with
out feeling that it involved any great self-denial to
do so.
K.SINA.—Tho Yankee Blade' which as
sharp and keen as ono of genuine Damascus man
ufacture, thus comments upon kissing. We ap
peal to the experience of all our readers who know
any thing of kissingdoin, if he has not cut right
into kissing—skillfully dissected the science of the
thing:—Pic.
The sweetness of kissing (quoth this Yankee
Blade) depends with us altogether on the slyness
of the thing. 'fake our word for it, the stolen
draghts are the most delicious. We would rather
be cut up into cat-fish bait' thankiss a girl in com
pany. Besides there is great danger in the promis
cuous kissing which is indulged in at parties. Ten
to one, if your lips do not, at the very moment after
they have been revelling to the most ecstatic enjoy
ment, come pop ! upon those of some old maid, so
sour that you cannot get the taste of the biters out
of your mouth for a week. No, no! kissing in
public is not the way to manage the thing; it des
troys the reverence with which man delights to
wrap the wondrous sex, and none but a bungler
I will resort to it. if vs. —6l, 4 -kiss
m all Its raciness—a kiss at once delicate,
airy and spirituelle, yet ono that will cause
every pulse in your body to thrill with ecstacy
—get your little charmer into a corner of a sofa,
before a cozy fire of a freezing night—steal your
arm round her waist--take her hand gently in your
own--and then, drawing her gently towards you,
kiss her with a long sweet kiss, as if you were a
bee sucking honey from a flower." There 'a true
kissing for you,
The Teeth.
nr MII9. LICUI• X. CHILD,
The prevalence of defective teeth in this country,
is the general subject of remark by foreigners, and
whoever has travelled in Spain and Portugal is
struck with the superior soundness and whiteness
of teeth in those countries.
Nobody used to have an offensive breath. A
careful removal of substances from between the
teeth, rinsing the mouth after meals, and a bit of
charcoal held in the mouth after meals, will always
cure a bad breath.
A lump of charcoal hold in the mouth, two or
threo times a week, and slowly chewed, has a won
derful power to preserve the teeth and purify the
breath.
A dear friend of ours had, when about twenty
years of age, a front tooth that turned back gradu
ally, crumbled, and so broke off piecemeal. By
frequent chewing charcoal, the progress of decay
was not only arrested, but nature eat vigorously to
work to restore the breach, and the crumbled por
tion grew again, till the whole tooth was as sound
as befure ! This I know to bo a fact.
Every one knows that charcoal is an anti-putre-
scent, and is used in boxing up animal or vegetable
substances, to keep them from decay. Upon the
came chemical principle, it tends to preserve the
teeth and sweeten the breath.
There is no danger in swallowing it: on the
contrary, small quantities have a healthful effect on
the inward system, particularly when the body is
suffering from that class of complaints peculiarly
incident to summer. It would not be wise to swal
low that, or any gritty substance, in large quanti
titles, or very frequently,: but once or twice a week
a little would bo salutary rather than otherwise.
A bit of charcoal as big as a cherry, merely held in
the mouth a few hours without chewing, has a good
effect. At first most people dislike to chew it, but
use soon renders it far from disagreeable. Those
who aro troubled with an offensive breach might
chew it very often, and swallow it but seldom. It
is peculiarly important to clean and rinse the mouth
thoroughly before going to bed, otherwise a great
deal of the destructive acid will form during the
night.
If these hints induce only one person to takebet
ter care of the teeth, I shall be more than rewarded
for the trouble of writing. lam continually pain
ed to see young people losing their teeth merely for
the want of a few simple precautions ; and one
cannot enter a stage or a steam ear without finding
the atmosphere polluted end rendered absolutely un
healthy for the lungs to breathe, when a proper use
of water and charcoal might render it as wholesome
and pleasant as a breeze of Eden.
'Puma PARTIEs.—The Pitteburg Gazette° M an
nrticle on the tendencies of third parties, and their
apparently leading oSject, the prostration of the
Whig party, charges the Liberty party with having
effected the annexation of Texas, and say., "so
long as a single slave soils the burning plains of
Texas, or lifts his manacled hands on her sunny
hills, a voice comes up in the stern accents of truth
to the leaders of the inis•named Liberty' party
-ITni. I , B GAL!"
From the Philadelphia Inquirer.
Never Give Up.
"Never give up! it is wiser and better,
Always to hope than once to despair,
Fling °tithe load of Doubt's cankaring fetter,
And break the dark spell of tyrannical care;
I\everglee tip! or the burthen may sink you—
Providence kindly has mingled the cup,
And in all trials or troubles bethink you,
The watchword of life must be, Never give up!"
We recently published a capital song, entitled
'Never gi-e up! A passage is quoted above.
There iv manly energy in the doctrine that we
should not permit ourselves to be overcome by
common place or evert extraordinary reverses of
fortune. 'Never soy die'—'never give up'—are
capital mottoes with regard to enterprise, business,
add the things of this life generally. If we give
way to depression of spinte, and at the first reverse
abandon the chase of fortune as hopeless, we will
eon sink into despondency, gloom, idleness, and
perhaps vice. But let us determine that, come
what may, wo will still struggle en, that while life
anti health remain we will still make an effort to
achieve independence, and in a majority olcaaes,
sooner or later, success will come.
A friend stepped into our office a day or two
ago, and in the course of conversation related an
incident well calculated to illustrate the force and
propriety of energy and perseverance. He had
visited Washington a few weeks before, and while
standing on Pennsylvania avenue, gazing at 10 1 / 1 0
object of interest, ho was accosted by a stranger, as
ono ho had seen and known in years gone by.
All.—inquired the other—when end where!
After some conversation, in the course of which a
degree of confidence was inspired between the par
ties it turned out that the stranger had reference to
a period of twenty years before in Philadelphia--
that he was then a poor boy, about seven years old,
and was in the habit of visiting the work-shop at
which the other was engaged, for the purpose of
collecting chips and shaving. The kind manner
of the apprentice had made a favcrable impression
upon the heart and mind of the then bare-footed
urchin, and although a period of nearly a quarter
of a century had elapsed, he recognized his friend
of his early days at a glance, and was anxious in
Basis way to testify his appreciation of the kind-1
nese rendered in et,s h....a his linyhood.
After some further conversation, he gave a brief
outline of his history. Before be was eight years
of age, his fattier, who was wretchedly poor, died
in the Alms House, and the little fellow was com
pelled to bog cold victuals from door to door, in
order to prevent the family from starving. Still he
had correct principles, and was anxious to make a
respectable figure in the world. He accordingly
indentured himself to a houeo-carpenter, and while
engaged in learning the business, he obtained a
copy of the Life of Franklin, which he studied
with great attention, as he said, to acquire a knowl
edge of proper habits of economy, and not with any
notion of brenming a philosopher. He persevered,
became master of his trade, worked with success as!
a journeyman, removed to Washington, and in
1836 had accumulated enough to build two or
three houses. A balance was still duo on them,
however, and the troubles of 1837 coining on, ad.
varsity overtook him, hie property was sold by the
Sheriff; and he was again reduced to poverty. But
ho remembered his boyhood, the destitution of that
period of his life, the manner in which he had over
come adversity by perseverance; and he determined
rime to give up.
His worldly wealth consisted of one bed and a
little furniture, and with this niggardly provision
for such an undertaking, he consulted his better
half, (for, liko a wise man, he had married the mo
ment he felt able to take care of a wife,) who was
a true and brave hearted woman, and they deter
mined to make en effort to obtain sneer two board
ers. Two young friends agreed to assist them in
the way proposed, and to these was awarded the
only bed in the house, while the husband and wife
purchased a few bundles of straw, upon which
they slept soundly for many a month. Slowly
and gradually fortune brightened again, employ
ment was procured, eavinge were laid by, the jour
imam became a master carpenter, ha obtained
one or two contracts from Government, and al
though not yet thirty years of age, he is in easy
and independent, if not in affluent circumstances.
Ho concluded his brief story by romaiking that
it would afford him infinite pleasure, if the old
friend to whom he had thus strangely introduced
himself, after an absence of more than twenty years,
would, while he remained in Washington, make
his house his home. He said that there were still
many recollections of his early years, which he
cherished with delight, and that on a recent visit to
Philadelphia, he had wandered over the haunts of
his childhood, and endeavored to learn something
of the history of his youthful companions—most of
them, like himself, children of distress and poverty.
In the majority of cativo, the results were melan
choly. Poor, friendless, end to some extent, de- I ,
aerted—but few had wrestled with and risen above
the untoward circumstances by which they had
been surrounded. There were cases, however, in
which patience, perseverance and constant appeals
to and dependence upon Providence, had lifted the
orphan, the outcast and the beggar from a lowly
condition of penury and trial, and rendered them
good citizens, devoted husbands, kind parcels, use
ful and valuable members of society. But, he
added, the doctrine of all who are depressed,—of
.he ehild , en of toil and misfortune, no matter how
dark tho present may seem, should be—persevere ,
porsevere—nercr give up. For who, he contin
ued—who may read the future--who may foretell
the events of a single year! And ho was right. In
the language of a deep thinker--'duties are ours,
but events are God's.' 'Clouds and darkness' may
lower to-day—but sunshine and prosperity may
brighten and beautify to•motrow. Let us struggle
on then--let us never despair.
"Never give up! there are chances and changes
Helping the hopeful a hundred to one,
And, through tiro chaos, High wisdom arranges
Ever success-1f you'll only hope on;
Never give up! for the wisest iv boldest,
Knowing that Providence mingles the cup,
And of all maxims the beet as the oldest,
Is the true watchword ofnevcr give up."
Broom Corn and Mustard
A travelling correspondent of the Cincinnati
Gazette thus writes:
"Between Chilicotho and Circleville I new about
1200 scree of broom corn, as fine looking as any
I had ever known. This is grown by a company,
consisting, of a father and two sons, fur export in
its raw state to England, where it is admitted near
ly or quite free of duty, The sone are here, and
attend to its cultivation and shipment. The fath
er resides in England, and receives it and ban it
manufactured. It is said to be a good speculation.
Near Chiheath.) I visited a field of 1.5 acres in
mustard, The seed sown is of a peculiar kind,
and I secured a small package of it for the Cincin
nati Horticultural Society, It is said to he much
better than either the English or ordinary Ameri
con varieties. A large crop of it was grown last
season in Muskingum county, the yield being with
in a fraction of 14 bushels to the acre. If as pun
gent and good an article as represented, and it cer
tainly scents to be so, its value in Cincinnati mar
ket at this time would ho $3 00 a 3 50 per bushel.
Take the medium, $3 25 and you have $45 50 as
the yield of an acre of good land put down in rata
tart] seed. Is not the crop worth trying? The
experiment to which I have referred in Rose coun
ty, is making by an enterprising cajun of Chili
cothe—a member of the craft editorial. For cart
ous reasons which he stated, the trial is not a fair
I one. In those portion. of the field which he wee
able to pay good attention to the weeding, the crop,
ceedir..lookc well, and he anticipates getting
about 10 bushels to the acre. rive. ail- i.... L....-
ter crop for small farmers than either wheat or corn,
being $32 50 per acre. I hope some of our agri
cultural friends will '•experiment" a little in this
matter. There is no sense in bringing from Eng-
land what we can en well grow here. Igo in for
raising our own mustard, as well as manufacturing
our own cloth., According to my view, our true
independence is entire independence.
From the United Stales Gazette.
Moralizing on Clouds.
We marked a few days since for publication, a
little anecdote, which atruck us as worthy of remem
brance.—We have mislsid the paper, and forgot
ten the names, but it was something like the fol
lowing.
A lady went to some benevolent gentlemen to
solicit an important favor for a child. The favor
was promptly granted. "I will go home," said the
lady, "and when the child gets large enough, I will
teach him to thank you for your kindness."
"I ant but the cloud," said the Doctor, "that
gives the shower; let him thank the Being above
the clouds that gives the means."
This is the story, with the omission of names,
and the probable less of a good deal of grace in tho
narrative. But it struck us that the good doctor
had been eminently felicitous in his choice of illus
tration. The good gifts that kind-hearted men
bestow, come down upon the recipients with fresh
ness and benificence, like the out-pouring of the
summer cloud upon tho parched earth. We look
upward, and bless the well stored magazine whence
descend the means of delight, .d tho cause of our
gratitude. There is a power, however, beyond,
that gathers into the granaries of the skies, the liar•
vests of moisture that the earth sends up, snd in
His own time, "compels" the clouds, that they
give back their treasures. We mark not this, mark
not the mighty "hand" that works these wonders,
but as we gaze upwards, the vehicle of blessings I
dims our sight, and shortens our survey, and we
thank the cloud, because we gee it; and forget the
power beyond, the power whose intercepted light
makes gorgeous the upper surface of the storm elm- I
riot; and whose absence, or whose presence unap•
parent, gives darkness, like the shadow of death, to
that pillary cloud whence descends the bleseing.
But the good man, the man of liberal heart and
open hand, is indeed like the cloud that sends down
the former and the latter rain, that gives here and
there the shower which invigorates, cheers and
nourishes. He feels the warmth above him, and
owns the influence by the trenemission of his sup
plied store. He goes and gives out of hts means,
to cheer the desolate and the famished, and returns
to see the fruits of his benefits to others, as the
clouds after the rain. Bountiful, rich, and abun
dantly useful, is the man of open hand, who, like
the summer cloud, comes suddenly, and gives when
most needed; comes in the warmth of day, comes
without a chill, comes without token of preparation,
and gives down the means of good, without the
evidence of inability to retain blessings in the gift
and in the manner, going forth with no evidence of
exhaustion, passing onward so if to revenue the
blessing to thou3and,, living and helping to live.
`Q;eaa.ca?D.a:z. 5. - "( 31). 4±,CDZa.
The clouds that gather with the cast wind, that
come thickening tip the sky, that darken for &ye
before they rain and seem to hays their contents
shaken out by the violence of the gale, and the
chills which it imparts—clouds that chill all be
neath them, end make the herbage look winter-like,
es it takes almost reluctantly and thanklessly the
descending storm; clouds that are wasted by the
moisture they comic—they, too, like the giving
man, like the man who bas treasured up the sa
vings of a hard life; and when they can no longer
be retained for himself, when they must cease to be
his, then with sigh's at the separation of soul and
body, that le; money and himself, with the sound
of trumpets, to make a virtue of necessity, he pours
down open others, without a single warning smile
of true benevolence, all that he has, and all that he
is.—lio sees no benefit springing from his last sac
rifice, and there is no expression of gratitude for
the course which he hue given to that which he
could neve tain.
. . .
Whei: . the summer cloud that has poured out
its bounties upon the grateful earth passes on, the
pleasure which if has given is doubled by the hope
which it imparts, that it will renew its blessing.
We see in the distance the bow of promise, gem
ming its exhaustless skirts, and the blessings
which it is giving to others, become the means of
hope to us. So the man of habitue' benevolence
gives assurance to the afflicted ones that his hand
is not to be staid, by the continuance of his active
geodes.se to the sufferers; and, to change the fig
ures, we ore, by his attention to them, assured of a
renewal of his goodness to us, just as the hour cry
of the distant watchman lets us know that in our
tarn our safety shall be provided for.
now 1 /INY GET 6UltirCltlilliPS out
WEsT.—We have heard of alt sorts of
contrivances for obtaining subscribers for
newspapers, but a friend of ours gives us
the following anecdote, as a smatter of
fact, which we consider a novel way of
increasing a subscription list, at all
events!
A new daily paper was started some
years ago, in a city not a thousand miles
from If —t. The proprietors found
it "held sledding" at first, and were
utilized to resort to the custom in those
"diggins"—of employing at, agent to
prowl around among the Hoosiers and
vvolversoes. to colleet names. and obtain
the an. The agent was known as roe
"stout, bullying cuss" of the Ga
zette—and his chief recommendations
were first rate qualifications fur drinking,
and much better for fighting.
John entered a bar-room one day,
where he met a brawny looking fellow
demolishing a "brandy smasher," whom
he immediately joined at the bar.
"I'll take mine hot," says John.
The liquor was swallowed, and the
stianger paid the bill.
"Subscribe to the --- Gazette, air?"
"No," bawled the other.
"No," inquired .I(.lm,..iihy not?"
"Oh, d—n your Gazette."
"‘Vill you he kind enough to say that
again, friend?" coolly replied John.
~ .Say it? yes; d-n your Gazette."
"Will you subscribe for the Gazette."
"Mt? IN 0t by a damn sight. It is the
meanest print in town.
" , It's what?"
"Yes"--continued the stranger, and
the next minute he was sprawling on the
shop-floor, John coming down on lop.
John gave him another "feeler," and then
asked him if he would subscribe for the
Gazette!
"No, I wont"—
Whack, whack came the blows, thick •
er and faster, John insi,ting that the poor
devil should "subscribe," as a condition
of gettiti , 4 up again, alive. The sufferer
finally give in.
"Let me up, I say."
)ou subscribe?"
“y e o,
'And pay in advance?"
"Yes."
John let him up—took his five dollars,
wrote a receipt, and coolly walked out of
the shop, with "I guess friend you'll like
the Gazette."
TRIAL or SFANIBII PIRATE/.—The trial of ten
Portugese and Spaniards charged with piracy, end
with the murder of ten Englishmen belonging to
her Majesty's ship Wasp, can))) on at the Exeter
assize., on tho 29th ult. before Mr. Baron Platt,
and a jury composed partly of foreigner.. The
trial lasted two days. On the second day the jury
retired, and, after an absence of an hour returned in
to court with a verdict of guilty against Majaval,
Serve, Alves, Ribiero, Francisco, Martinos, end Jo
aquin); and not guilty as regarded, Dos Santos,
Manocl, end Jose Antonio. Tho learned judge
then passed sentence of death, leaving them no
hopes on this side of the grave.
Preservation of Manures and destruction of
the E i gluvia.—ln a letter to the celebrated French
chemist, Mr. Dumas, M. Schalterman says he finds
by experiment, that the application of sulphate of
iron, or green coppers., at once fixes the ammonia,
flying oil from putrefying manures, and destroy.
their odor. It will have almost instant effect upon
the foulest faecal matters.
It is applied either in solution or solid. It will
not only preserve the contents of sewers, ceeipel:
public privies, &c. in the most valuable state fib s _
rieulture, but render these inocuous, both or , Th e
ing filled, and in the proem of emptyith4 t ,
action of copperas is so energetic that )1 . mt
ents
man finds that if mined with the Cs, the mus
of a ress real or privy for a few 'odor.
may be removed without any s,