Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, June 15, 1853, Image 1

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    VOL. 18.
The "HUNTINCII7O74 JOURNAL" in published at
the following yearly rates:
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And two dollars and fifty cents if not paid till
after the expiration of the year. No subscription
'will be taken for a less period than six months,
and no paper will be discontinued, except at the
option of the publisher, until all arrearages are
paid. Subscribers living in distant counties, or in
other States, will be required to pay invariably in
The above terms will be rigidly adhered
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One square of sixteen lines or lose
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ged, 53,00
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air Short, transient advertiseinents will he ad
mitted into our editorial columns at treble the
usual rat..
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transient, a reasonable deduction will be made
and a liberal discount allowed for prompt pay
My Mother.
My mother's voice! How often creeps
Its cadence on my lonely hours,
Like healing on the wings of sleep,
Or dew on the unconscious flowers.
I might forget her melting prayer,
While 'wildering pleasures madly fly;
But in the still unbroken air
Iler gentle tones coin° stealing by;
And years of sin and manhood flee,
And leave me at my mother's knee.
I have been out at eventide,
Beneath a moonlit sky of spring,
When earth was garnished like a bird,
And night had on her silver wing;
When bursting buds and dewy grass,
And waters leaping to the light,
And all that make the pulses pass
With wilder fleetness thronged the night;
When all was beauty, then have I,
With friends on whom my love is flung,
Like myrrh on winds of Araby, '
Gazed on where evening's lamp is hung.
And when the beauteous spirit there
Flung over all its golden chain,
My mother's voice came on the air,
Like the light dropping of the rain;
And, resting on some silver star,
The spirit of a bonded knee,
I've poured a deep and fervent prayer,
That our eternity might be—
To rise in heaven, like stars by night,
And tread a living path of light.
The Alpine Cross.
Benighted once where Alpine storms
Have buried hosts of martial forms,
Halting with fear, benumbed with cold,
While swift the avalanches rolled,
Shouted our guide with quivering breath—
" The path is lost! to move is death!
The savage snow•cliffs seem to frown,
The howling winds came fiercer down;
Shrouded in such a dismal scene,
No mortal aid whereon to lean,
Think you what music 'twos to hear—
"l see the cross! our way is clear!"
We looked, and there, amid the snows,
A simple cross of wood uprose;
Firm in the tempest's awful wrath
It stood to guide the traveller's path,
And point to where the valley lies
Serene beneath the summer skies.
One dear companion of that night
Has passed away from mortal sight;
He reached his home too droop and fade
And sleep, within his native glade.
But as his fluttering hand I took,
Before he gave his farewell look,
He whispered from his bed of pain—
" The Alpine cross I see again !"
Then, smiling, sank to endless rest
Upon his weeping mother's breast.
Washington's Last Days at Mount Vernon.
We find in the Washington littelligencer an
article, of which it says, "We have the pleas.
urn to insert the annual contribution of our
venerable and respected friend, Mr. Curtis, of
Arlington, from his valuable stock of 'Enrollee.
tions of the last days at Mount Vernon,' and
'Private Memoirs of Washington.' As time
recedes, those memorials increase in interest,
and it is to be regretted that they are not given
to the public entire and in a durable form."—
We give the article and know that it will bo
read with avidity by all our readers.
The year 1799 was in its last month; Wash.
ington had nearly completed his sixty-eight
year; the century was fast drawing to a close,
and with it thii, great man's life. Yet the
"winter" of ago had shed its own snows "so
kindly" upon him as US mellow without im
pairing his faculties, both physical and mental,
.and to give fair promise of additional length
of days.
Nor was Washington unmindful of the sure,
progress of time, and of his liability to he call
ed at any moment to "that bourne from which
no traveller returns." He had for years kept
a will by him, and after mature reflection had
so disposed of his large property as to be sat
isfactory to himself and to the many who were
so fortunate and happy as to share in his tes
tamentary remembrance.
The last days, like those thatpreceeded them
in the comae of a long and well-spent life, were
devoted to constant and useful employment.—
After the active exercise of the morning, in at
tention to agriculture and rural affitirs, in the
evening came the post-bag, loaded with letters,
papers, and pamphlets, His correspondence,
both at home and abroad, was human. ; yet
was it promptly and fully replied to. No let
ter was unanswered. °floor the hestbred men
of his time, Washington deemed it a grave of
fence against the rules of good manners and
propriety to leave letters unanswered. He
wrote with great facility, and it would be a dif
ficult matter to find another, who had written
so much, who has written so wall. His epis
tolary writings will descend to posterity as mod
els of good taste, as well as developing superi
or powers of mind. General Henry Lee once
observed to the chief, "We are amazed, sir, at
the vast amount of work that you accomplish."
Wa:hiu, ton rq,!i• I. 'Sir, I rise at four o clock,
cad a great deal of my work is date while oth.
er, are af,leok
lilt liuntingtft.. 7oulritat
So punctual a man delighted in always hav
ing about him a good time-keeper. In Phila
delphia, the first President regularly walked
up to his watch-maker's, (Clarke, in Second
street,) to compare his watch with his regula
tor. At Mount Vernon, the active yet always
punctual farmer invariably consulted the dial
when returning from his morning ride and be
fore entering his house.
The affairs of the household took order from
the master's accurate and methodical arrange•
ment of time. Even the fishermen on the river
watched for the cooks signal when to pull in
shore, so as to deliver his scaly products in
time for dinner.
The establishment of Mount Vernon employ
ed a perfect army of servants; yet to each one
was assigned certain.special dnties, and these
were required to be strictly performed. Upon
the extensive estate there was rigid discipline,
without severity. Thero could he no confu-
sion where all was order; and the affairs of this
vast concern,embracing, thousands of acres and
hundreds of dependants, were conducted with
as much ease, method, and regularity as the
affairs of an ordinary homestead.
Mrs. Washington. an accomplished Virginia
housewife of the olden time, gave her constant
attention to all matters of her domestic house-
hold and by her skill and superior manage
ment greatly contributed to the comfortable
reception and entertainment of the crowds of
guests always to be found in the hospitable
mansion of Mount Vernon.
Invariably neat and clean in his person, with
clothes of the old fashioned cut, but made of
the best materials, Washington required loss
waiting m
upon than any
inan of his age and con
dition the world. A single boy-servant at
tended in his room to brush his clothes, comb
and tie his hair, (become very thin in his last
days, worn in the old fashioned queue, and
rarely with powder,) and to arrange the mate
rials of his toilet. This toilet he made himself,
in the simplest and most expeditious manner,
giving the least possible amount of his precious
time to anything relative to his person. When
rising at four o,cloek, he lighted his own can
dles, made up his fire, and went diligently to
work, without disturbing the slumbers of his
numerous household.
In the last days at Mount Vernon, desirous
of riding pleasantly, the General procured from
the North two homes of the Narragansett
breed, celebrated as saddle-horses. They were
well to look at and were pleasantly gaited un
der the saddle, but were scary, and therefore
unfitted for the service of one who liked to ride
quietly on his farm, occasionally dismounting
and walking in his fields to inspect his improve
meas. From one of these horses the General
sustained a heavy fall, probably the only fall
he ever had from a horse in his life. It was in
November, late in the evening. The General
accompanied by Major Lewis, Mr. Pealce. (a
gentleman residing in the neighborhood,) the
author of the Recollections, and a groom, were
returning from Alexandria to Mount Vernon.
Having halted for a few moments. the General
dismotinted, and upon rising in his stirrup
again, the Narragansett, alarmed at the glare
from a firs near the roadside, sprang from un
der his rider, who came heavily to the ground.
Our saddles were empty in an instant, and we
rushed up to give our assistance, fearing ho
was hurt; it was unnecessary. The vigorous
old man was upon his feet again, brushing the
dust from his clothes; and, after thanking us
for our prompt assistance, observed that he was
not hurt, that he had had a very complete
tumble, and that it was owing to a cane that
no horseman could well avoid or control: that
he was only poised in his stirrup, and had not
yet gained his saddle when the scary animal
sprang from under him. Meantime, all of our
horses had gone off at full speed. It was night,
and over four miles were to be won ere we
could reach our destination. The chief ob
served, that as our horses had disappeared, it
only remained for us to take it on foot, and
with manly strides led the way. We had pro
ceeded but a short distance on our march, as
dismounted cavaliers, when our horses hove in
sight. Happily for us; some of the servants of
Mr. Pealte, whose plantation was hard by, in
returning home from their labor, encountered
our flying steeds, captured them, and brought
them to us. We were speedily remounted,
and soon the lights at Mount Vernon were seen
glimmering in the distance.
Upon Washington's first retirement, in 1793,
he became convinced of the defective nature of
the working animals employed in the agricul
ture of the Southern States, and set about rem
edying the evil by the introduction of mules in
stead of horses, the mules being found to live
longer, be less liable to disease, requires less
food, and in every respect to bo more servicea
ble and economical than horses in the agricul
tural labor of the Southern States.
In no portion of Washington's various labors
and improvements in agriculture was hesopar
ticularly entitled to be hailed as a public hens
factor as in the introduction of mules in farm
ing labor, those animals being at this time al
most exclusively used for farming purposes in
the Southern States.
The general of the Armies of the United
States was much aided in the discharge of the
duties of commander-in-chief by Col. Lear, his
military secretary. After the organization of
his last army, in 1799, the general-in-chief en
trusted the details of the service more especial
ly to the known ability and long-tried experi
ence of Major Generals Hamilton and Pickney;
still, reports were made to and orders issued
from head-quarters, Mount Vernon. The last
army of the chief was composed of military,
materials of the very first order. All of the
general officers, and nearly all the field, were
composed of revolutionary, including the illus.
trions names of Hamilton, Pickney, and Wm.
Washington ; while in the provisional or army
of service, were Howard, Harry Lee, and oth
ers, the history of whose martial renown was
to be found on the brightest pages of our revo
lutionary annals ; so that, had the threatened
invasion occurred, we may venture to say that
the elite of Europe would have encountered in
America an army every way worthy of their
swords, and prepared to uphold and perpetuate
the heroic fame of America's old battle-day.
It pleased providence to permit the beloved
Washington to live to witness the fruition of
his mighty labors in the cause of his country
and mankind; while his success in the calm
and honored pursuits of agriculture and rural
affairs was grateful to his heart, and shod the
most benign and happy influence upon the
last days at Mount Vernon.
The Children of Israel.
A remarkable change, it is said, is in pro
gress among the Jews in almost every country.
Multitudes are throwing aside the Misona and
Tulmud, and betaking themselves to the study
of Moses and the Prophets. Among the Jews
in London there is, at the present time, great
demand for copies of the Old Testament. The
anbjoet of their restoration to Palestine, and
the nature of the promises on which the ex
pectation is founded, am extensively engaging
their attention. In examining into those mat
tem, they have obtained considerable assistance
from a continental Rabbi, who has lately ar
rived among them and exhibited a manuscript,
in which he has endeavored to prove from
Scripture that the time has come when the
Jews must s•t about making preparati•ens far
Murat,* to the land of their !saw :4.
A Beautiful Letter from a Mother to
Her Son.
On the person of Charles C. Wellington, for
merly of Hamilton, Madison county, N. Y., the
young man who committed suicide at Chatham
Four Corners, near Hudson, in New York
State, the following affectionate and maternal
letter was found:
MY Dena Bon: Fueling sensible that I
must soon leave you, I wish to say a few words,
to which I entreat your attention as the last
words, the last wishes of your dying mother—
s mother who would be glad to live and suffer
for your sake, if it was the will of God that she
should. In the first place, my dear Charles,
love and serve God; make a friend of Him, and
He will he better to you than all earthily
friends. Never forget to pray to Him; remem
ber that from the time that you were a little
one, and could scarcely speak, you have knelt
beside your mother and offered up your pray
ers to Him. You have also read His holy
word with her; do not forsake this practice
when she is gong never omit it for a single
night and morning; think that your poor dead
mother is looking pleased at you if you do
this, and looking grieved if you neglect it;
above all, think how displeasing it is to your
Heavenly Father to be neglected by us, His
creatures. He has made and protects us every
hour and moment of our lives. But remem
ber, my dear child, that just to kneel before
God and say your prayers is not praying.—
You must feel what you say; you must remem
ber that God is looking into your heart—re
member that He will help them to do so if they
ask Him. Therefore, every night endeavor to
think what you have done, or said, or thought
wrong, and beg Him for the sake of your dear
Saviour, to forgive you and help you to do bet
ter for the future. Every morning, thank Hint
for all your blessings; beg Him to keep you
front sinning against Him through the day,
and then nll day long endeavor to remember
that His eye is upon you, and that He will be
grieved if you do wrong—that He wants to
save you and make you happy. If bad boys
tempt you to do wrong, remember His holy
word has said, "Mv son, if sinners entice thee,
consent thou not." Neat to God, love and
obey your father, my dear boy; he has been a
good father to you, awl he has always been
good to your mother. Strive to he a comfort
to him, do everything to oblige him that you
can, and if you live till ho needs your help, do
all for him that you can. Remember that it is
well pleasing to your Father in Heaven for
you to love and honor your earthly parents.—
Be obliging and kind to all, endeavor to make
every one love you, obey your teachers, try to
improve in your studies that you may grow up
au intelligent, useful man; be good to dumb
animals; do not' tyranizc over any living
thing; try to deny yourself—that is, my dear
Charles, try to oblige others even if it puts von
to inconvenience on your own account. When
you think of the poor heathen children that
know not God, and think how much better you
are off, strive to save something for them.—
When you arc tempted to spend money for
what you do not need, determine not to spend
it, but save it to do good with. This is self
denial. When you see a poor ereatnre hungry,
and you go without a part of your food to give
it to him, that is self denial. When you are
tempted to do a wrong action and do not do it.
this in resisting temptation—this is well pleas
ing to God, who will always help you to resist
it if you ask him. I hope you will be useful.
I hone you will livo fur a good purpose. I
shall write much more if lam able. I want
to write what I hope might profit you as you
grow older; but if I can write no more, endeav
or to profit by what I have written, for in
childhood, youth, or old age, it cannot hurt,
and with the blessing of God it may do you
good. Therefore, my dear child, if my life is
not spared to finish this, receive it as it is—re
ceive it as the last farewell, the blessing of
your dying mother.
May GM bless and protect my motherless
boy, and enable him to become a true Chris
Coming /tome.
Glad word 1 The waters dash upon the
prow of the gallant vessel. She stands on the
deck and the winds woo her ringlets as she
looks anxiously for her head land of home.—
In thought there are warns kisses on her lips,
soft hands on her temples. Many arms press
her to a throbbing heart, and ono voice sweet•
er than all the rest whispers, "my child I"
Coming home I Full to bursting is her heart,
and she seeks the cabin to give her joy vent in
blessed tears.
Coming home! The best room is set apart
for his chamber. Again and again have lov
ing hands folded away curtains, and shook out
the snowy drapery. The vases are filled every
day with fresh flowers,and ovary evening tremu
lous; loving voices whisper, "lie will be hear
to-morrow, perhaps." At each meal the table
is set with scrupulous care. The newly em
broidered slippers, the rich dressing gown, the
study cap that he will like so well are all para
ded to meet his eye.
That student brother! lie could leap the
waters, and fly like a bird home. Though he
has seen all the splendor of olden time, there is
but spot he will soon roach, "Sweet home."
Come home What sees the nn•browned
or in the darkling waters! Ile smiles There
are picture's there of a blue-eyed babe and its
mother. Ile knows that even now his young
wife sings the sweet cradle song:
"For I know that the bright Angels will bring
him to me."
Efe sees her watching from her cottage door;
he feels the heat of her heart in the pulse of
his own, whoa a familiar foot-fall touches only
the threshold of memory.
That bronzed sailor loves his home, as an
eagle whose wings sock °Rama the tracks of
the air, loves best his mountain eyry, His
treasures are ttiore.
Coming home! Sadly the worn Californian
folds his arms and sinks hack upon his fevered
pillow. What to him is his yellow gold I Oh
for one smile of kindred But that may not
be. Lightly they tread by his bedside, watch
the dim eye, and moisten the parched lips.
A pleasant face bends over him, a rough
palm gently pushing back the moist hair, and
a familiar voice whispers, "Cheer up, my
friend, we are in port, you are going home.
The film falls from the sick man's eve.—
Home, is it near? Can be be most there? A
thrill seeds the blood circulating through his
limbs—what I Shall he see those clear eyes
before the night of darkness settles down for
ever! Will his babes fold their little rums
about him and press their cherry lips to his?
What wonder if new vigor gathers in that man
ly chest? Ho fools strength in every nerve,
strength to reach home—strength to hear the
overwhelming joy of meeting those dear ones.
Coming home. The very words are raptur
ous. They bear import of everything sweet
and holy in the domestic life—nay more, they
are stamped with the seal of heaven, for the
angels says of the dying saint, "He is coming
Ifel..There is an editor—a confirmed old
hach—who declines accepting a pioco of wed•
ding cake whon he publishes a marriage. Tic
Safi it lo,its like ^,unton3n , in,-; motrimmv.
A Sailor's Dying Mother.
During the last illness of a pious mother,
when she was near death, her only remaining
child, the subject of many agonizing and be
lieving prayers, who had been roving on the
sea, returned to pay his parent a visit.
Alter a very affectionate meeting, 'You are
near port mother,' said the hardy looking sail
or, 'and I hope you will have an abundant en
'Yes, my child, the fair haven is in sight,
and shall soon, very soon I shall be landed
'Qn that peaceful shore,
Where pilgrims meet to part ri6 more.'
'You have . weathered many a storm in your
passage, mother; but now God is dealing very
graciously with you, by causing the winds to
cease, and by giving you a calm at the end of
pin- voyage.'
'God has alwhys dealt graciously with me,
my son; but this last expression or hi:, kindness,
in permitting me to see you Woe I die, is so
unexpected, that it is like a miracle wrought in
answer to prayer.'
. .
'0 mother!' replied the sailor, weeping as he
9polco, 'your prayers hate been the means of
my salvation. and I am thankful that your life
brie been spared till I wan tell you ',fit:
She listened with devout composure to the
account of his conversion, and at last taking
his hand, she pressed it-to her dying lips, and
said, "Yri, thou art a faithful God I and as it
loath pleased thee toyring hack my long-lost
child, and adopt Sinn into thy family, I will
say, 'Now lettest thouAlsy servant depart in
peace, for my eyes have seen thy salvation."
Bayard Taylor.
This young Inert is fast making himself a
soldid and brilliant reputation as a traveler and
writer. He is now in Asia, on his way to pen.
etrate if possible the inner provinces of Japan.
The following beautiful and touching incident
in his life is not generally known. It is copied
front a biographical sketch of hint by It. H.
Stoddard. Taylor was born at Kennet's
Square, Pennsylvania, on the llth of January,
1825, and is now only 24 years of age. After
speaking of his tour to California, his biogra
pher says
On his return to the United States, Taylor
resumed his desk And duties iu the Tribune of
flee, whore ho remained till the summer of '3l.
Bat in the meantime, a °hangs, anion over the
spirit of his dream; the "friend" of his early
poems, the "Lillian" of hid Rhymes of Travel,
died. Years before they had betrothed them
selves in sincerity and truth, and it was • their
only wish in life, to call each other by the en
dearing names of wife and husband, two of the
sweetest and most holy words ever uttered on
earth. For years the marriage was deferred,
perhaps, says Dr. Griswold, in an affection al
lusion to the circumstances, for the poet to
make his way thrOngh the world; and when he
came back front California, there was perceived
another cause fur deferring it—she wan in ill
health, and all that could be done for her was
of no avail; and the suggestion came, the doubt,
and filially the terrible conviction that she had
the consumption and 1433 dying. lie watched
her, suffering day by day, and when hope was
quite dead, that he might make little journeys
with her, and minister to her gently, as none
could but one whose light came from her eyes,
he married her; while her sun was setting he
placed his hand in her's, that he might go down
with her into the night. There are not many
such marriages; there were never any holier
since the father of mankind looked up into the
• face of our mother. She lived a few days, a
few weeks perhaps, and then he came back to
his occupations, and it was never mentioned
that there had been any such events in his life.
Could the sanctity of private letters be exposed
to the public eye, his grief and manliness on
the occasion, would shed a new lustre upon his
character; but why allude to those things? It
is tho old, sad story; the beloved have been dy
ing, and the bereaved have been weeping for
them, ever since time began.— Ohio State Jour.
Noble heroism,
Among the many intrepid persons who ren
dered noble service to the sufferers in the,
dreadful catastrophe at Norwalk, we arc im
pelled to mention the name of Mr. Brock Car
roll, in particular. This gentleman Was about
leaving the wharf at Norwalk, to go on a
shooting exeurs'on, when this accident occur
red. Immediately on seeing the cars go into
the draw, he sprang into the water, and swam
to a boat, which he quickly unmoored, and
rowed to the nearest car, which was partially
visible above the water; and dashing through
the window ho drew out in succession Mr.
Nathan Harris, of Montgomery, Alabama, his
three children, and their nurse, together with
others, and put in with them for the shore; on
landing, Mr. Harris embraced him, and ea
gerly pulling out his pocket-book filled with
money, offered it to hint, saying,, "Take it, thou
saviour of my children I I wish it was more; I
cannot otherwise express my heartfelt grati
tude." "All right, sir," said the noble-hearted
fellow; "I don't want you to insult me, though"
—and, seizing an axe, he pushed again for
the wreck, and with lusty blows and superhu.
man exertions soon made a huge hole in the
car's side, and rescued as many as the boat
would hold, when ho wan forced to return re
luctantly to the shore with his freight of lives.
"Al I" said ho, "if there had been a few more
boats, and some one to ntanage mine, I could
have got inside the car, and have drawn out a
great many that I saw rising to the surface,
and sinking again to the bottom to die; it was
awful to see their agonized features, all woun
ded and bloody, as they struggled with the en
orgies of despair, for life, dear life I"
Many of those who were striving for life,
when he left with his boatfull, were silent in
the long sleep of death on his return.
"Ah, it made me feel good," said he, "when
I drew out the terrified little children from the
water, in the car." There was only the upper
part of one aide above water. He was afraid
that his strength would fail him before he
could finish his good work, but said he, "my
muscles felt just like steel bars, as I swung the
axe, and stove in the panels." When all was
finished, and no more lives could he saved, ho
felt that his duty woo accomplished. The
many horrors he had to witness; the mangled
and maimed; the agony of bereaved relatives;
and the terror-stricken people, making desper
ate eftbrts to render assistance, but perfectly
paralyzed through horror, at the awful event,
made a deep impression on him.
We think that ton much praise cannot bo giv
en to Mr. Carroll, for his noble conduct in this
ease. Mr. C. is a resident of Norwalk, and re
cently of Brooklyn, N. Y.
we- morbid desire for notoriety is perhaps
one of the most easily kindled of all the pas•
sions that lie latent in man's heart It is not
uncommon to hear people wishing that they
were celebrated for something, and seemingly
not over solicitous as to OM respectability of
their ambition. To he the oblect of curiosity,
wonder, or even for, is all that some desire,
and the name of TritrlN seems to thorn quite
as deserving of immortality as that Or HOWARD.
Such natures are frequently imitative, and gen•
orally careless of the distinction between
wrong and right.
MV, 11 NEEnrD —A ruin
.1 , 1,t now
Hints on Cleanliness.
The following facts, taken from Dr. Alcott's
new work, entitled "Lectures - on Life and
Health," exhibiting in a manner somewhat
striking the necessity of ventilating and clean
ing cellars, wells, &c., and we place the article
in this department of our paper as likely to
have a better effect than in any other.
"In the early part of my career OA a medical
practitioner, I was called to the house of a
wealthy farmer,whose numerous family had beer,
alarmed by the sudden appearance in their
midst of a severe disease, of the typhoid dysen
teric character. I found the family in great
trouble, indeed the whole neighborhood great
ly agitated and distressed.
"On examination for local causes of what
seemed to be a local disease—it was the month
of September—l found the cellar and all the
premises in a condition that left little room for
doubt. The cellar had not been cleaned that
year, if indeed in two or three years. It was
full, so to speak, of half putrid cabbage and
cabbage leaves, decayed potatoes, and apples,
ciderless, remnants of animal substances—
some of them quite putrescent—and mouldy
shelves and bins. The house, well, vault, sty,
anti I had almost said the barn and barn yard,
were in a sort of concavity or basin; and their
filthy contents, when put in a liquid state by
the rains or otherwise, appeared likely to have
intercommunication. Besides this, the sink
was close to the well, thz, water of which was
"The premises wer cleaned and ventilated;
the sick—what had not died—were taken care
of, and no longer permitted to inhale carburet•
ml and sulphuretted hydrogen gas; the alarm
ceased ; the rest of the patients, except one, re
covered, and no more disease prevailed among
them,as far as I could learn, for many years."
Utah Territory.
The Deseret News gives us some insight into
. progress of the settlements in the Mormon
region. From this source we learn that Pal
myra contains one hundred families, the first
house having been built in September last.—
It is surrounded by a fine farming region, and
has good water facilities. Springville has
more than one hundred and thirty families,
besides a grist mill and a saw mill, a brass
band, and a school for teaching the French
and German languages. Provo is a large
town, and much crowded. Many new build
ings are in progress; German and French
schools are taught, and a dramatic association
is in operation. A bridge across the stream at
Prove, to replace one swept away by a spring
flood, is in progress, besides a flourishing mill;
and a 'company is turning the Crown river in
to its old channel, to prevent overflows. The
town of Coder, its Iron county, contains seven
ty men, about half being employed by the De.
seret Iron Company. This place has a dam
and water course, several furnaces, and a cast
ing house. The town of Harmony, in the enure
county, has an iron foundry in rapid progress.
Parordan, also in Iron county, is extensively
engaged both in the lumber and iron trades.
They have iron works there. Several other
settlements in the iron region are named, all
apparently quite flourishing.
Turkey Proverbs,
A small storm often makes a great noise.—
A foolish friend is, at times. a greater annoy
ance than a wise enemy. You'll not sweeten
your mouth by saving 'honey.' If a man would
live in peace, he should be blind, deaf, and
dumb. Do good and throw it into the sea; if
the fish know it not the Lord will. Who fears
God need not fear man. If thy too be as small
as a gnat, fancy him as large as an elephant.
They who now most are the oftenemt cheated.
A mien who weeps for every one will soon have
lost his eyesight. More is learned from con
versation than front books. A friend is of
more worth than a kinsman. Ile rides seldom
who never rides any but a borrowed horse.—
Trust not to the whiteness of his turban, he
bought the soap on credit. Death is a black
camel that kneels before every man's door.
1401... Words sorectimes carry an immense
influence with them. The noble lines uttered
by "Richelieu" will nerve ninny a young heart
to deeds of desperate daring:
Richelieu—' Young man, be blithe! fur note
one from the hour I grasp that packet, think
your guardian star reigns fortune on you!"
Francois—"lf I fill! r,
Riehelien—"Fml—ftul ? In the bright lexi
con of youth, which reserves for n glorious
manhood, there is no such word as -FAIL?"
This thought has often been felt before, but
never so admirably expressed. No one can
listen to its delivery by the old Cardinal, with
out finding a momentum given to its courage
that will keep him in energy for a life-time.—
Another fine sentiment is uttered by Richelieu
in the succeeding act—" The husband of a wo
man should be a man, and not a money-chest,"
a sentiment that will stand up between Nature
and Usury long after the hand that penned it
cold in death.
small, and he picks up his type from the case
with a rapidity truly astonishing. I have ne,
er seen it equalled in an English printing of
flee. But his day's work over, (and he will get
it done sometimes in three hour,,) ho is the
most indolent and dissipated creature in exist
ence. He is never out of debt, and never with
out a dun at his heels; but he invariably dis
putes all claims upon him, and never pays till
he does so by some court. I required ten of
these compositors, and engaged them at exact
ly double the rate of pay they receive in Cal
cutta. "Look at the distance," they would say:
"to be so far fimm your families to whom you
must send money, surf" The compositors said
they would require five distributors: In India
a compositor never distributes his own matter.
Ho would consider it beneath his dignity. Be
sides, it stems to soothe his feelings to have
some one under him—a human being at his
beck and call—somebody whom he may bully
with impunity, and strike if it pleased him.—
These native distributors do not know a single
word of English; many cannot tell you the
names of the letters; but they will fill a case as
speedily and as accurately as ally European.—
Dickas Household Words.
A Happy World.
This is a happy world; who says to the con.
trary is a fool or something worse. There is
everything to make us happy. The land, sea
and sky contribute to our enjoyment. The
man who has a good heart sees pleasure where
a had person beholds nothing but gloom. The
secret then 'in being happy and enjoying this
glorious world is to pose,ss a virtuous heart.—
Who is the most cheerful and contented man
in your neighborhood ? The man who is the
most honored and possesses the greatest rich
es ? No—it is he who bas nothing but a kind
' and good heart. Nothing ruffles his temper or
disturbs his repose. The morning sky, the
evening cloud, rolling waters, the blooming
landscape, the teeming forrests, the fields of
snow, give hiss pleasures others never &stun
of, It is he whose mind is "led from nature up
to nature's God," and every day that he lives,
he is contented and happy as it is ro,sil,le for
man to hg.
Horticultural Taste.
The Prairie Farmer has an excellent edito
rial on the cultivation of the taste for horticul
ture, and its effect on the character and the
home. We extract a few mama.
' The country is the true home of beauty, and
horticulture is the free school of taste. in which '
all of our readers may become 'apt pupils, if
they choose. and gratified and useful professors
if they will it, and help to create as much beau.
ty in their spare hours, an the wealthy citizen
can purchase with the gains of years, to deco
rate his brick and mortar palace, in the me•
There is no more ornament in the house or
out of it, so cheap and so tasteful as healthy
plants and flowers; and you will find ten per
sons of sense admiring your Geranium or Fns
chic, where one will notice your rich curtains''
and tall mirrors. And out of doors, the eye
that would never bo attracted by glaring paint.
cornice. or column, will be instantly arrested
by the living Arabesque of a native Creeper, or
the umbrageous outline of an American tree.
Do you not admire that simple little cottage
with its graeeful trees from oat the native
wood,. the vines malcin , beautiful, while they
conceal the rough ont•buiidings; the little "fruit
yard," or more fitting lawn, gemmed with
shrubbery and sparkling with flowers; with neat
walks, with a tinge of velvety turf, or natural
ones over it. all in keeping and all suited to
the means of the tasteful owner! If you have
been able to lift the veil that hides the life•
within, have you not found real comfort and
true happiness there. and are net the inmates
really deserving of what they enjoy?
And how much, in time and money, has all
this cost? Perhaps less than a tithe of what
your rich neighbor has expended to rear that
great pile of boards and shingles, or more am
bitious mounta , n of bricks and mortar, with a
countenance us blank as an idiot's, and as bar
ren of beauty as a lumber-yard or a brick-kiln,
and not a thing except weeds in the grounds,
, or paints on the walls, either greener or bright
er than the man who can deem this huge abor
tion the ne plus ultra of architectural taste.
Ten to one he who built that dwelling, if a
farmer, is one Of those who "would rather have
a hill of potatoes than a rose bush," and would
sooner raise a snarling cur than plant a beau
tiful tree.
The Defiled Lawyer.
• At the last sitting. of the Cork Assizes, a case
was brought before the Court, in which the
principal witness for the defence was a tanner,
well known in the surrounding country by the
soubriquet of 'CrazePat.'
Upoh 'Crazy Pat' being called upon for his
evidence, the attorney for the prosecution ex.
erted to the utmost extent his knowledge of
legal chicanery, in the endeavor to force the
witness into some slight inconsistency, upon
which ho might build a 'point,' bet he was ex
cessively annoyed to find that Crazy Pat's evi
dence was consistent throughout.
Perceiving that acute questioning failed to
answer his purpose, the disciple of Coke and
Blackstone betook himself to the oftentimes
successful resource of lawyers—ridicule.
'What did you say your name was ?' he in
quired flippantly.
'Folks call me Crazy Pat, but—'
'Crazy Pat, ch?' A very euphonious title;
quite romantic, eh?
. . . .
'Romantic or not our, it Actin't be a had idea
if the Parliament wnd eine it to yourself, and
lave me to elms° another.'
This canoed a slight laueh in the court room,
and the presiditpx judge peeped over his spec
tacles to the attorney, an much as to say—
'Yon hnyo rotor match now.'
'And what did you say your trade was ?'
continues the disennserteil barrister, with an
rum, look at the witness.
'l'm a tanner. our.'
'A tanner, eh ?'
'And how lone do you think it would take
you to tan an ox hide ?'
'Well, sur, since it filmes to be very impor
tant for ve to know, it's myself that'll jilt tell
ve--that's entirely mite to circumstances in
'Did you ever tan the)tidea an 1.8
'An as ? No snr, but if you'll jilt sfrn
down the lane after the eonrt, be ;Om I'll
give ye physical demonstration that I end tan
the hide of an MB in the shortest end of three
This unexnected sharp ronly, of the witness,
brounht forth roars of laughter, in which the
Bench heartily joined; whilst the baffled attor
ney, blushing to the eyes, hastily informed
Crazy Pat that he was no longer required.—
! Mr. C., when did you return from
Rockaway ?'
'Just arrived, sir.'
'Any news?'
',None of any groat importance—caught a
shark to -day.'
'And hoi't long was it ?'
'Twenty-five feet, sir.'
'flow much did it weigh 7'
'Eleven tons and a half.'
By this time tho listeners crowded close
around C., but no smile was to be seen upon
his countenance, or anything else to denote
that he was telling. aught hut the truth.
'By the way, U.:tier,' continued C., 'I had
forgot to tell you we had• found the New York
Brass Band.'
'You didn't, did you
'Yes; you recollect when I came up last
week I told you they took their instruments
with them, and went out in a sail boat. The
boat was seen to capsize, and they were sup
posed to be lost, but when we opened the shark
to-day, we found them all alive and hearty,
their liquor bottle empty, :Ind the huyler sitting
near the gills playing, 'come rest in this bo
Paddy attending a "Broadbrim" Con
vention for the first time, wan much astonish
ed and puzzled withal, at the manner of wor
ship. Having been told that the "brethern
spake even as they were moved by the spirit,"
he watched the proceedings with increasing
disgust, for their "haythen way of worship,"
till Km young Quaker arose and commenced
"Breihren, I have married—"
"The divil ye hey I' interrupted Pat.
The Quakar sat down in confusion, but the
Spirit moving Pat no further, the_ young man
mustered courage and broke ground again:
"Brethern I have married a daughter of the
"The divil ye hey that!" said Pat, "but it'll
be a long while before iver yell see your fath
)IM-Two sons of Erin were moralizing over
the last election:
'Bad news Pat,' Hoye !dike.
'Faith and you're right there,' responded Pat.
'What would ould Oilier:11 Taylor say to this
if he was alive now?' ejaintlated Mike.
'Bo gorra,' replied Pat, 'he'd any ho was glad
he was dead. ti
tte.L. Humboldt. the rhilo-opher, derides the
idea of magnetic table mooing, and advises
tho,c who have consulted him on the subiPet
try their (graft' yo , iner VA."
NO. 24.
Poultry—Moat Profitable Kind to Keep.
The question then naturally arises, which is
the most profitable breed to • keep? The an
swer must be, that which produces the ereatesto
number of eggs at the smallest cost. I believe
from experience, it most be the pencilled Ham.
burgh. I think, if an accurate account were
kept of the number of eggs laid by one of these
birds, and against it were put the cost of keep
inn, it would be found lam correct. The cb•
jection may be raisbd, the eggs are small; I
think if the weight of eggs produced in the
year were put against the food consumed, it
would startle the observer by its cheapness.—
It hat often struck me as wonderful, that those
who supply markets with eggs should neglect
this valuable little bird as they do. They are
cheap to buy, cost little to keep, and are mar
vellous layers. Nature seems to have produced
them on purpose; they never set; and their pro
duetiye powers require no stitnulant. Of course,
to insure eggs throughout the winter, cars
must be taken to save early pullets in the pre.
view spring, as none but young birds will lay
Which is now the best fowl for the table?—
That which fats best at an early age at the
least expense, and which possesses those prop
erties most valued for food. It is notorious
that in catering for the palate there is another
sense to please, which is sieht. How many
persons are they guiltless of a love for thegreen
fat of a turtle. because they have never tasted
it, disliking its appearance. Just in the same
way, the look of a fowl when first "put on the
table is important. Everybody is more or lees
susceptible of harmony and fair proportion;
now, if when the cover is removed, a bird of
plump and round appearance is seen, there is
a prepossession in its favor. All the skill of
trussuig cannot do this unless the shape of the
bird is in favor of it. No fowl helps itself to
approbation so much as the Dorking. It is es-
sentially the table fowl. Of plump and com
fortable look, deep iti breast, and of early ma
turity, it would seem to be adapted for the Lon
don and other markets. Another
. point is, it
has invariably white logs. There is always a
sale for these, and where there boo not hither
to been, 'they will supply one.—Agricultural
Meadow Kay.
Meadow hay, if intended for winter food for
stock of any kind, should never be allowed to
stand till fully ripe. By remaining in the field
till it becomes mature, it acquires a hard and
wiry character which ensures being rejected by
mot animals when not actually compelled by
htur•er; and is, indeed, fit for little else besides
litter or budding. By cutting the period of
inflorescences, perhaps indicates with sufficient
general accuracy, the most suitable season for
harvesting—making thoroughly and salting
with from one peck to two pecks of salt per ton
(the quantity in all cases to be graduated in
conformity to the use to which it is to he ap•
plied) a very excellent and salutary winter feed
will be secured.
Sheep do well, perhaps, in most cases, much
better on this than any other hay. They par
take of it eagerly, and are seldom sick. In
some sections where they are extensive salt
marshes appended to most of the farms, or
where salt hay can be obtained in almost any
quantity, and at a merely nominal price. The
wild grasses of meadow and fresh bog land,
possesses less intrinsic value; but even then it
is not by any means to be thrown away. Even
if you have no use for it in your barn, it will he
found an excellent article for manure. When
used for this purpose, cart it into your yards
green, or in a partially made condition, and
spread it over the surface, or else pack it away,
after “making it" as hay, in come convenient
and unoccupied out•building, to be thrown out
occasionally during winter, or to supply bed
ding for your horses, sheep, swine and other
animals, and tints be mixed up with the ma
nure for future use. But there are few places
where a good crop of wild hay will not be of
value to the farmer for feeding. In the inte
rior it is eminently on, and there is generally
a demand for n much larger quantity of it than
' most farmers find it practicable to obtain. In
such places, the most imperfect of the wild
grasses, if properly salted, will be found to pos
sess n high value. It is an error to suppose
that long standing improves the quality of this
description of hay. The earlier it is cut, after
the season of haying commences, the better.--
Germantown Telegraph.
Sour Food,
Cattle fed on sour food, prepared by fermen
ting rye flour and water, into a kind of paste,
and then diluted with water, ofterwards thick
coed with hay chaff, (that is hay cut imall,)are
said to fatten quickly. This plan is adopted
in France to a considerable extent, and has
been introduced years ago into this country.—
Although not generally adopted, it is deserving
of consideration lw graziers. With respect to
the efficacy of acid food for fattening animals,
there is, no on most other subjects, a variety
of opinions. It is well known that swine de
rive more benefit from sour milk, than they do
front milk iu a fresh state) and there is no
doubt but there are particles which promote
digestion, and facilitate the consumption of a
larger quantity of food, and consequently ex
pedite the fattening of rattle.—Agrzetator.
To Keep Crows Out of Corn.
Tho Northertt Farmer, and it ought to know
smnethiug about crows, fur nobody crows more,
says the wuy to keep them out of the corn, is,
to hang up on some poles ten or fifteen feet
long, some old boots or shoes, suspended by a
string or piece of bark, say two feet long, so
that they can swing by the wind, and also stick
some ears of corn on the other poles, (on the
top of the 1)010,) a few days before the oort
comes up, and the field will not be troubled by
crows. It is much cheaper than to stretch
card around the field, as many do in this
A Secret fora Farmer's Wife.
While the milking of your cows in kcoing on
lot your pans be placed in a kettle of boiling
water. Turn the milk into one of the pans ta
ken from the kettle, and cover the same with
another of the hot pans, and proceed in like
manner with the whole mess of mill:, and you
will find that you will have double the quantity
of sweet and delicious butter. Try this, dairy
woman and write us the result, will you 7
Onions for Chickens,
It is said that chickens fed on onions will
never be troubled with the gapes, and a core
respondent of the Northern Farmer says that
et ttalantrts of lard and cayenne pepper will Cure
the pip. These experiments are at least worth
A lump or harl softy is the best thing
to stop a mouse, rat, roach or an ant hole.--
Dirty vermiu or all kinds have au antipathy to
SW Crush the caterpillars in the egg anti
you will save much time and injury.
per" Every farmer slmuld,ilim6dible have wa
tt.r ft, rin4, , •r t!i.• ba.rn,