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BY WM. BREWSTER.
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h ) (O24ICLIEL.
THE MILLINER-GIRL'S SONG.
0 I the jolliest thing in the Milliner's trade,
Is on nice bribal-honnets to work ;
And I'll wear the one for myself I have made,
If I have to marry a Turk!
How oft have I looked at myself in the glass,
As an orange•flower'd beauty I've tried,
And wondered, alas I if always a lass
I should be,—and never a bride!
On Sunday I walk the broad aisle of the church,
And toss my white feathers so high,
The parson he peeps at me over his perch,
With a five•dollar•feo in his eye.
When I make a gay bonnet, with flowers bed ight,
For a virgin of forty odd years,
The eye of my needle it winks with delight,
And I laugh till stopp'd by my tears.
laugh, yet keep working all the same,
Till the stitches are all on the grin,
To think they are playing their part in a game,
To take some old bachelor in!
.Ah I many's the bach., as we Milliners know,
Though not one of the bach will own it,—
Who is caught at last by a wicked bow,
On a wicked old maid's bonnet!
And when, with the spinster hook'd to his arm,
He enters our place a victim,
We chuckle and whisper: "0 where's the harm,
That the cunning old maid has picked him?"
O I the jolliest thing in the Milliner's trade,
Is on nice bridal•bonnets to work,
And I'll wear the one for myself I have made,
If I have to marry a Turk !
A Tale of Bash&loess.
There is a certain misfortune in the world,
not usually emimerated in the list of common
misfortunes, but which, nevertheless, ought to
be. I afford a living illustration of the truth
of my assertion.
My father, God rest his soul, sent me dili
gently to school, there i gaiiied some knowl
edge, although our city schools at that period
were none of the beet.
Every one said, "Max has talent, but he is
shy and awkward, cannot adapt himself to the
ways of the world, is unacquainted with the
usages of society, and never knows what to do
with his hands and feet; otherwise he is a good
and clover fellow enough."
Such was the general impression of me.—
Reader, do you perceive my failing? My world
ly education was defective. Diligent at school
and in the work-shop, I was uncleanly and ne
gligent of my attire; was civil, obliging, and
honest, but bashful withal, so that I ran off
when unknown persons approached; my eyes
never knew where to look for a resting place
when addressed by a stranger, and if called
upon to meet a lady with civility and politeness,
I became rooted to the spot, speechless, and
stiff as a ramrod.
Enough—politeness and case of manner, as
they are called, are concerns no less pertaining
to life and life's comfort, than bread, potatoes,
or a glass of water.
Many young gentlemen, as I have often ob
served, aro greatly wanting in these respects.
Many a one on going into society is sadly at a
loss how to dispose of his extremities, and
would, one can easily perceive, have much
rather left aunt at home. Many such an un
fortunate one knows not where to quarter his
bands, thrusting them at one moment into his
breeches pockets, then in despair raising one
or other to his oeciput, there to scratch by way
Among other ill luek entailed by toy awk
wardness, may be reckoned that of being still
a bachelor, of having reached my fifty-second
year without being blessed with a wife.
No sooner was my old aunt dead, and I, her
sole heir, thereby rendered comparatively of
fluent, than I, then in my thirtieth year, was
led to seek the hand of a young lady, who to
other qualifications added beauty, virtue, ami
ability, and wealth, besides.
I was well pleased with my pretty Barbara;
matters were quickly arranged, and nothing
remained but to cultivate the acquaintance. I
was accordingly to meet her at the house of
her cousin, and an invitation to dine was for.
warded to ine.
Of large parties I had a pesfeet horror; my
[ urittug) on. 7 ),ovarti I,
" I BEE NO STAR ABOVE THE HORIZON, PROMISING LIGHT TO GUIDE US, BUT THE INTELLIGENT, PATRIOTIC, UNITED WHIG PARTY OF THE UNITED STATES."—[WEBsTEIL
aforesaid defective education making me shy
and timid, but then what will not man do to
secure the favor of a pretty Barbara? So I
put on my best Sunday suit, white silk stock
ings, a bran new hair bag, and apple green
coat, with large pearl buttons—in a word, made
myself smart as a bridegroom.
On reaching the door of the cousin's house,
however, my heart began to thump against my
ribs, as though I had a smithy within my breast.
"If I could only feel assured there will be no
party," thought I—"would to heaven that it
were over." Fortunately I found the cousin
alone, making up an account in his study.—
"You are somewhat late, friend Stolpriau," said
he. I made twenty inclinations right and left
and laughed in perfect agony to look agreeable,
for the fear of meeting a large party engrossed
The cousin having finished, looked round tor
some sand. Anxious to be of service, I rushed
forward, seized, as ill luck would have it, the
inkstand instead of the sand-box, and poured a
whole stream of the best black writing fluid
over the neatly kept ledger. I thought I should
have immediately fainted from sheer fright, and
in my confusion hurriedly drew forth my snow
white pocket handkerchief to wipe it up.
With an exclamation of "what on earth are
you doing there, friend Stolpriau ?" my enter
tainer smilingly interposed, and pushing mo
and my black and white kerchief gently aside,
quickly put things to rights, then led the way
to the apartment where the company were as
sembled. I followed, but with a troubled spir
it, and on looking down was horrified to ob
serve an ink-blot as large as a florin on my left
white silk stocking. "Help me, heaven!" T
mentally groaned, "what will the company
The room dOor was opened. I, awkward
blockhead booby that I was, thinking to show
myself light and graceful, as well as clever and
gallant, sprang forward, scraping first with one
foot, then with the other, in all directions, and
not perceiving a female domestic just before
me who was in the act of dishing up a pie,
dashed my head with such force into her back,
as to send the pie flying out of the diets on the
floor; and so with compliments, and ducking,
and bowing, I blindly advanced. I felt as the'
I were in battle, and about to rush on the enc•
What civil things wore said on the part of
the company I know not; as yet I had not the
courage to look up, but continued like one
possessed, bowing and scraping, and ejacula•
ting "your humble servant," in all directions,
until cut short by a fresh mishap.
I had in fact reached the pio which still lay
there, for the servant had not sufficiently re
covered from her fright and loss of breath, and
stood staring at the master-piece of cookery
dashed to pieces on the floor, without an effort
to remove it.
All at once, while engaged in making a fresh
inclination, my unfortunate left foot wandered
into the pastry. I saw nothing, for all had be
come dark before my eyes. Disgracefully, but
naturally enough. my foot slid from under me;
in an instant personal and political balance
were lost, and down I came, measuring my
whole length, just five feet seven, on the floor,
to the no small alarm of some, the irrepressible
laughter of others of the large and worshipful
company there assembled.
In falling, I brought down two chairs, which
I bad seized hold of in order to save myself,
together with a young and pretty female, who
in all probability was at that moment about
to seat herself, but now with a speed equal to
that of her chair, came rolling on the floor be
side me. Gracious heavens I it was my Bar
A terrible clamor arose, and as I lay there,
I roared lustily, too, for seeing in addition to
myself and the two chairs, a lady stretched on
the floor, I felt persuaded that a shock of earth
quake had taken place. To my great relief I
soon found that no earthquake had caused this
melancholy fall, but as already narrated only
a veal pastry.
We got up. Tho cousin treated the whole
affair as an excellent joke. It was very well
for hint to joke, but I could have wept, nay
died with shame and vexation. I went to the
mantle piece, without offering one word of apo
logy, but as all were laughing and giggling
around, I langhed too, and threw from time to
time stolen glances at the cause of my misfor
At last we took our places at the table. The
cousin was so gallant as to place me next to
Barbara. I had rather been situated near to
a volcano than at the side of this amiable and
pretty creature. I felt most extraordinary sen
sations while thus in juxtaposition with my fu
ture bride. Of the assembled guests I ventur
ed only to take rapid glances at intervals.
Soup was served round. Barbara offered
me some—bet how could I accept it?
She herself was yet unprovided. Compli
ments were exchanged, and I already foresaw
that some new evil would arise out of these
abominable civilities. Hence I became more
and more pressing, and looking imploringly
into the face of my charmer, forgot the plate
altogether. The consequence was that I pour
ed the burning soup into Barbara's lap and
over her clothes, and in endeavoring hastily to
withdraw it sent the remainder into my own
hip, deluging alike my garments and my finger
napkin. It was a fraternal division. I shall
never forget it. I remember all, as though it
had occurred but yesterday. It was a crab
(Aerating Barbara left the table. I
stammered out sundry apologies. The guests
endeavored to console me, and a fresh plate
was handed to me. Meanwhile my pantaloons
were streaming from the inundation. Barbara
was obliged to have her dress changed. She
returned, and I endeavored again and again to
excuse myself as well as I could.
On perceiving that she smiled graciously, t
felt somewhat re-assured, and began to brunt
the cold perspiration from my face, of course,
not with toy band, but with my pocketler.
HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY,
Alas, amid the accumulated disasters that
had since occurred, I had clean forgotten the
ink business. In drying off the perspiration, I
rubbed in the ink so thoroughly, that on repla•
cing the handkerchief in my pocket, the whole
company were amazed to find me converted
into a perfect blackamoor.
Titterings and roars of laughter succeeded.
Politeness compelled me to join in the laugh,
and I did so heartily for some time without
knowing why or wherefore, until I found that
some of the ladies were becoming alarmed at
the blackness of my visage, and now tier the
first time I perceived that my handkerchief had
got me into a fresh scrape, and what an ap.
pearance I must present.
In alarm I rose precipitately from the table,
and commenced a retreat towards the kitchen,
in order to wash myself, and while so doing,
for I had inadvertently buttoned a corner of
the table cloth instead of the table napkin to
my waistcoat, down came plates and dishes,
boiled and roast meats, salad, spinach, bottles
and salt cellars, flesh and fowl, knives and
forks, spoons and glasses. All rushed after
me with a fearful crashing and clatter. The
guests, on witnessing all the good things thus
suddenly withdrawn, and many a delicacy, on
which they had set their hearts come full in
career after me, sat opened-mouthed and riv
eted to the spot with astonishment.
At first, on seeing the plates and dishes
closely following on my heels, I could attribute
the freak only to witchcraft, but the cousin
springing with both feet on to the cloth brought
it, together with the attached button, away with
a jerk, and brought me to a sense of my situa
I sought, as fast as my legs could carry me
—not the kitchen—but the stairs; flew across
the street, and did not halt till I reached my
chamber. For four weeks not a soul did I ad
mit to my presence, and I never thought of
matrimony without a sensation of giddiness;
and as to large parties, the bare idea brings on
a fit of ague.
I now laugh myself, at my helplessness. But
my history may serve to many, not indeed for
an example, but for warning and instruction.
Sam Dale's Great Canoe Fight.
In 1784, when Samuel Dale was yet a boy,
his father moved from Virginia,and made a set
tlement near the site of the present town of
Greensborongh, Ga. But a few days had elap
sed, when the subject of our sketch—a youth
of sixteen summers—found himself an orphan;
and, in virtue of his seniority, guardian of sev
en brothers and sisters. Disposing of them in
the beet manner his limited resources would al
low, he joined a company of volunteers, raised
to repel the invasion of the Creeks; and here
commenced thatmilitary career, which only clo
sed when the difficulties of his country ceased.
We do not propose to follow it up. Whoever is
acquainted with the history of the Indian wars
—with the bloody battles of Burnt Corn and
Holy Ground—the terrible massacre of Fort
Mims—the hazardous expeditions of Claiborne,
and the Seminole campaings of Jackson—
knows enough to appreciate the iron nerve and
daring, intrepidity of Gen. Dale. We only no
tice a few of those remarkable adventures with
which his life is so replete.
Ills celebrated "Canoe fight," in the Alaba
ma river, in which he and two of Isis company,
brained, with clubbed rifles, nine Indian warri
ors, in fair and open combat, is akind of house
bold word with our old settlers. Every old cro
ny on the river could relate to you the indi
dents of this bloody conflict; while her aged
partner, whose head had whitened with the
growing improvement of Isis State, would hob
ble down to the bank and point out the very
spot in the bright waters where the two canoes
met; and if, perchance, the reader has ever
made a trip down the river, on that elegant
boat which bears our hero's name (Sam Dale,)
he has doubtless had designated to him, by the
courteous captain, the time honored old beech
which marks the spot, as well as the high pro
jecting bank which had previously sheltered the
namesake of his boat from the fire of the Indians.
Soon after the bloody tragedy of Fort Mims,
many of the whites, urged by their defenceless
condition, and the increasing hostilities of the
Indians, took refuge in Fort Madison. As Gen.
Claiborne was prevented from marching to
their aid by the hostile movements of the ene
my about St. Stephens, Capt. Dale and Colonel
Carson were left in command of. the fort. As
soon as his wounds, received at Burnt Corn,
were sufficiently healed, Dale, determined to
change his line of conduct front the defensive
to offensive. With seventy men he proceeded
Southwestardly to Brazier's landing, on the Al
abama. Here they found two canoes. belong
ing to a negro named Cresar, who informed
them that there were Indians above there on
each side of the river. He also tendered them
the use of his canoes, and offered toactas pilot.
Capt. Dale immediately placed the canoes in
charge of Jeremiah Austill and six mco, who
were ordered to keep them parallel with the
party on land. Arriving at the mouth of Ran
den's Creek, the canoe party discovered a boat
filled with Indians, who, however, immediately
paddled to the shore and fled. The land par
ty, finding it impossible to continuo their route
on account of the thick cane and vines,were or
dered to cross and proceed up on the other side.
While they were effecting a passage, Dale and
several of his men kindled a fire a short dist.
ance from the river to prepare their day's Meal.
Thus engaged they were fired upon by a party
of Creeks, front ambusctule. Retreating to the
river, so as to gain the cover of the projecting
bank, they discovered a largo flat-bottomed ca
noe, containing eleven armed and painted war
riors. The party behind them now retired,lea
ving Dale to choose his own course toward
those in the boat. As both of his canoes were
on the opposite side, Dale ordered the larger
one to bo manned. Two of the warriors now
left their boat and swam for shore, but n ball
from the unerring rifle of John Smyth rerfuru.
tcd the skull of unc, whu hmucdiattly sunk
the other gained the shore and escaped. Eight
men in the meantime, manned the large canoe,
and were approaching the Indian boat, but,
coming near enough to see the number of rifle.
muzzles over the edge of the boat, they hastily
paddled back to the shore.
Dale, exasperated by "this clear back out,"
as lie termed it, of his men, shouted to them in
a scornful tone, "to look and 800 three brave
men do what eight cpwards had shrunk from,"
and followed by Austill and Smyth, sprang in
to the smaller canoe, which the faithful Comer
had just brought over. Paddling their canoe
directly toward their enemies, they soon com
menced the "canoe-fight" proper—so celebra
ted in Alabama tradition.
When within twenty paces of the Indians our
heroes arose in their canoe to give the Indians
an open broadside, but, unfortunately, the pri
ming of their guns was wet, and they failed to
fire. Had not the same accident befallen the
enemy, the result of the canoe-fight might have
been very different. Dale now ordered Caesar
to bring his boat alongside the other, and hold
them together. The warriors confident of their
strength, and eager to grapple with three men
whose guns would not fire, allowed their boat
to move liesurely along with the current. As
the two neared each other, the Chief arose, and
with an ejaculation of defiance to "Big Sam,"
levelled his gun at Smyth's breast ; but before
he could draw a trigger, the latter directed a
blow at him which would have proved fatal,had
it had not been adroitly avoided. The canoes
came together with a jar, which threw Austill
slightly off his balance,and ere he could regain
it, a well directed blow from a war-club, pros.
trated him across the boat. Half a dozen pow
erful arms were raised to complete the work,
when the heavy rifle of Dale came down upon
the head of the Chief, with a force which sunk
it deep into the skull. Smyth had not been less
active, and his trusty barrel had fallen with like
effect upon the skull of another warrior, and
the two now felt their death throes in the bot
tom of the canoe. Austin had, in the mean
time, recovered, and added his strenght to the
work of destruction. The bold Clem held the
boats together with an iron grasp,and withone
foot in each, our heroes fought. The succes
sive blows from Austin's rifle despatched two of
the enemy, one of whom fell overboard. Think
ing to make sure of his foe by a second stroke,
Austill leaned forward to strike, when lie was
again prostrated by an Indian club. The ex
ulting savage, never forgetful of a scalp, raised
the warwhoop—seized his victim by the hair—
the scalp-knife glittered in the air, when anoth
er timely blow from Dale's clubbed rifles divid
ed his skull.
Tradition says that, from the force of the
blow, the skull was split even to the vertebral
column. In the meantime, Smyth at the other
end of the canoe, grappled with two lusty war
riors. He was a powerful man; but the chanc
es now were against him. The iron clutchcsof
one of his assailants are upon his throat—the
tomahawk of the other above his head! He
sees his danger; one foot in one canoe, ono in
the other; with a desperate effort he gets both
feet in one canoe, ancl,kardraws one Indian af
ter him, while the sudgel movements separates
the ends of the boats and leaves the other be
hind to meet the fate of those who had already
come within range of Dale's and Austill's rifles.
Smyth now had the enemy in his power, and
soon despatched him. The Anflict, now be
came °quail—three to thrno. , llte savages,re
duced from nine to three, now fought with the
energy of despair. Light and active, they avoi
ded many of the blows of the whites, and dealt,
in return, such well directed ones, that they
were begining to tell in their favor, when
Dale, calling to Cmsar to hold the boats firmly
together, sprang upon one of thescats and dealt
a blow which shivered a club which had been
directed to meet it, and leveled another warrior.
The remaining two were left to have destine
tion meted outto them at the hands of the victo•
rinse Dale, who, while Smyth and Aestil leaned
upon their bloody and brain•spattered rifles, de
spatelted them at two successive blows. During
the whole of this sanguinary conflict, the he
roes were encouraged by the continued cheers
of their comrades on either bank. Of the nine
warriors, Smyth killed two, Austill two, and
Dale five. 'gloving laid them low," says Mr.
Packett, "these undaunted Americans began to
cast them into the bright waters of the Ala
bama—their native stream, now to be their
grave. Every time a savage was raised up
from the bottom of the canoe and was slungin•
to the water, the Americans upon the banks set
up shouts loud and long, as some slight revenge
for the tragedy of Fort Minis. The Indian ca
noe Presented a sight unusually revolting—sev
eral inches deep in savage blood—thickened
with clods of brains and bunches of hairs," Sc.
Many horses areinjured by careless shoeing.
Their feet differ so much that it requires great
judgement, and a thorough knowledge of their
anatomical stature. Smiths generally pare the
heel too much, or do not pare the toe enough.
The frog should be permitted to grow sufficient.
ly to strike the ground before the hoof opposite;
it rarely grows too long: it is intended by no•
tore to prevent the heavy jar produced by the
weight. When the heel is so much lower than
the toe, the cords of the legs become strained,
and the legs sore and stiff, and the horse will
move awkwardly, which is attributed too often
to founder, when the cause is bad shoeing.—
Seine burn the too off—this is very injurious.
So tar as the heat penetrates, it destroys the
circulation which gives the toughness. The
hoof necessarily becomes very brittle, and is
liable to crack. Great cure should be taken
in driving the nails, to see that they do not
split and enter the quick and came lameness.
THREE TIMES Rovxn THE Woni,n.--The
ship Raven, oC Boston, which arrived at \9IV
York on the 12th inst., consummated her third
voyage around the gloto, Sho startod from
'Boston on the first of ths-ie tea
of August, 101.
AUGUST 9, 1854.
Snake Fasoination—A Recent Instance in
From the St. Louis Herald, July 12.
We have occasionally read accounts of per
sons having been fascinated or spell-bound by
snakes, but never knew of an instance occur
ring in our vicinity until a day or two since,
and one that we know to be a fact. A man by
the name of O'Mara had a small child, a little
girl about thirteen years of age, who came to
her death through the influence of a snake, one
day last week, under the following circumstan.
ces:—O'Mara resides on Copperas Creek, in
Franklin County, and but a short distance from
the Pacific Railroad depot. Some nine months
ago, early last fall, his family noticed the little
girl pining away, and becoming very weak and
pale, although she had been very fleshy and
hearty, and apparently without any cause or
complaint of sickness.
By the time winter had fairly set in she way
wasted away to a mere skeleton, but as soon
as the weather became cold she again seemed
to revive. She never complained of being un
well, and in reply to all their inquiries iu re
gard to her health, she invariably said she felt
very well, only a little weak. As soon as spring
arrived, she could not be prevailed upon to eat
any victuals in her father's house, but would
take a piece of bread and butter, or a piece of
meat, and go out to the edge of the creek to
eat it. 'lke family noticed her regularity, al
ways going precisely to the same place, and in
variably complaining of being hungry after her
return, when, if more victuals .would be given
her, she would again return to the creek, as
they thought, to eat.
Finally, some of the neighbors having heard
of the circumstances of the child's extraordina
ry conduct, and also of her wasted appearance,
suggested to her fatherto watch her in ovements,
whirls lie did last Friday. The child had been
sitting on the bank of the creek nearly all the
forenoon, until near dinner time, when she got
up and went to her father's house, asked for a
piece of bread and butter, and again returned
to the same place she had been. Her father
kept behind her without making any noise. As
soon as the child was seated, the father saw a
liege black snake slowly raise its head into her
lap and receive the bread and butter from her
hand; and when she would attempt to take a
bite of the bread, the snake would commence
hissing and become apparently very angry.
when the child, trembling like a leaf, would
promptly return the bread to the monster. The
father was completely paralysed, not being able
to move hand or foot—entertaining, as most
Irish persons do, a great dread for snakes, he
felt alarmed for the safety of the child, not
1 1 knowing the nature of the snake or the extent
of the influence on his child.
His blood became almost clogged in his
veins, and he groaned in perfect agony, which
caused the snake to become alarmed, and glide
away to the creek. The child then immediate.
ly sprang to her feet and ran home, apparently
much frightened. Her father followed her, but
she refused to answer any questions, and he
then resolved to detain the child at home, but
he was advised to permit her to go again next
day to the creek, and to follow her and kill the
snake. Next morning she took a piece of
bread again and went out to the creek; her fa.
ther followed her with his gun in his band, and
tur soon as the snake made its appearance, shot
it through the head. The child swooned; the
snake squirmed and worked itselfaround awhile,
and then died; the child in the meantime rem
cored from her swoon, but was immediately
seized with spasms, acting in a manner resem
bling the writhing of the snake, and finally died
at the same moment the snake did, apparently
in the greatest agony.
This horrible, and at the same time melan
choly occurrence is the first we have heard of
for a long time, and, in fact, the first we ever
know of where we Could possibly vouch for its
truthful correctness. We know that there are
persons who doubt the reality of snake fascina
tion, but if they entertain any doubts on the
subject hereafter, the relatives of this unfortu
nate little girl can be found ready and willing
to corroborate our statement. This should serve
as a warning to parents who reside in the corn.
try to be more careful in watching their chil
We had almost forgotten to mention that it
was a black snake, (generally supposed to be
harmless, that is, not poisonous,) seven feet
six inches in length, that fascinated the little
The Bible in onr Common Schools.
We have always thought that u book so pure
in its teachings as the Bible should never be
objected to as a school book. The beautiful
and sublime lessons which it inculcates, has
charm which no other book can diffuse, We
believe by far the larger part of Christendom
take the Bible as their guide in spiritual mat
ters, and it likewise forms the basis of the com
mon laws which govern society. We have nev
er known its precepts to lead to any wrong.—
Such a thing is impossible. A work written
by Divine Inspiration, by prophets and apostles,
cannot be otherwise than pure and its princi
ples elevating. True it is, they who read this
Holy volume do not all arrive at precisely the
same conclusions. Some passages are various
ly construed and treated on, and henco arises
the different opinions held by the numerous
sects whose very belief and foundation is based
upon the word of God. Presbyterians, Metho
dists, Baptists, Seceders, Calvinists, and the
whole list of Protestant denominations find
their arguments in the inspired volume, yet, in
points of doctrine they differ materially.
Tn this view of the Bible, we cannot see why
its I),ing rend in our Common Schools should
be seriously objected to. Does it lead the
young astray—dons it impart a doctrine which
is not right—will it inspire unholy thoughts,
and will he who carefully reads ifs page, ' and
becomes a student rase lh
red arm of rebellion, will he become an infidel:
will-he he Ire, a Man, nr ran it impair th.•
human notate, and hls
and spotless soul. No, nol this volume teaches
the reverse. Its language is ennobling. The
soul that is sunk in darkness may here find
light. The being who has strayed from the
paths of rectitude and mourns his transgres
sions, may here seek for and find the sweetest
consolation, ever afforded to man. The Bible
is the foe to tyrants—the scathing opponent of
superstition. It bids darkness vanish, and
scatters the beams of universal knowledge over
the earth. It has weakened the power of kings,
and dashed down the sceptre of oppression. It
has presented the babbling, priest ns not being'
the minister of God, but the minister of cere
monies, too weak for sensible men to observe,
and only received by those who have been kept
in ignorance by the superior cunning of insid
It is a long time since an attempt was made
to put down the Bible in our Common Schools.
We believe that no boon can be given to our
children which will tend more rapidly to devel
op their minds and improve them generally
than the Bible. And yet we believe that it is
objected to by a religious sect, who oppose the
Protestant Bible, ridicule its teachings, andde
nounce it as heretical.
We hear that an effort was made in the bo
rough of Clarion a short time since to have the
Bible discontinued in 911 C of our Public Schools.
Why? Simply because its teachings conflict
with the doctrines of the Boman Catholic
church. And shall we submit? shall the ma
jority submit to the minority? Shall we say
that the Bible is unfit for a school book—that
it should not be read to our children in the
Common Schools? If so, then banish it from
your pulpits, drive it from your presence, and
at once look forward to the coming of the sec
ond dark age of the world, as you now look for
the Millenium !
We trust this effort will go no further. For
our part wo will combat it. We say that. the
Bible is the standard by whirls we are govern
ed, and if we permit it to escape front us, if we
substitute the doctrines of men—of priestly or
acles—instead of it, then farewell to liberty,
liberty of conscience, and the free coercion of
those high qualifications which God has del°.
gated to us. .
Preserving Fruit Without Sugar.
Numerous applications arc made for infor
mation about the ;audits operandi of putting
up fruit so as to preserve it in a fresh state, with
out conking, drying, or packing in sugar. It
is a business that cannot so well be done in
families as in large manufactories, where every
thing is arranged for convenience; but still.
with a little experience and careful attention.
every thmily can save enough of the various
The Bible. fruits of the season to furnish their tables with
The following ronarl., so far no memory a great delicacy during that portion of the year
will supply them, are from Dr. McElree's Ad-
when they can get nothing of the kind. The
dress on the presentation of two Bibles, by the
hole secret consists in expelling the air fivnit
"Young Men's Central Home Mission," of this". -bottles or cans, by heat, and then sealing up
city, two pupili of their School No. 2, in thethe contents hermetically. If the article to be
"Pitman Chapel," on Sunday, the Ifith alt. • I preserved is peaches, select such as you woad
The books I have the honor this day to pro- for sweetmeats, and pare and cut them so they
sent to you, are much more to be desired than can be put in the bottle, and you mat do thii
gold, yea more than much fine gold. Even fine with the blast possible delay, or they will bo
gold will wear away. The most costly jewels colored by the atmosphere. Some persons who
may become dim, and cease to shine, but the
want them to retain their natural whiteness,
jewels in these caskets will shine forever as the
put them under water. When the bottle is full
brightness of their Author's glory. The warmest cork it tight and wire down the cork with very
affections of mortal bosoms may cool anti die, little projection above the glass. When you
but God so loved the world that he gave his on-
have bottles enough to fill a kettle, such as ly begotten Son, to die for the world, that the
may be most convenient, put them in and boil
world through him might he saved. The Bible with the water all around up to the nozzle, fur
is by far the oldest hook in the world. When about fifteen or twenty minutes, or until the
God created the earth, and put man upon it, he
did not leave hint to decipher the problem of bottle appears to be full of steam—the atmos
phere having been forced out through the
his own or the earth's existence, but God walk-
cork. As soon as the bottles are cool
ed and talked with man as a man talketh with
enough to handle, dip the corks in sealing-wax
his friend. face to face. It was not until man
so as to cover them quite tight. An addition
bid himself from God that God withdrew him.
al precaution is used by some in putting tin
self front man. But, although man degraded
foil over the wax.
himself, so that he was not fit to be any longer
Another plan is to cook the fruit slightly in
the companion of angels and God, God still lo
ved the creature of his hand. Although in.'s a kettle, and then put it in cans or bottles,
pour hot syrup of sugar in to till up the inter
countenance became so downcast, and his eon- stices, and then cook and seal. The heat of the
science so guilty that he could no longer look f ru i t an d s y ru p answering to expel the air.—
upon the face of Deity, yet God gave him his But the less they are cooked, or sweetened, the
biography, so thltt man might read and study the more nattiral will be the taste, like fresh fruit.
character of a Being he could no longer behold.
when opened. We have eaten peaches a year
No other book begins like the Bible. Other
old that we could not tell from those sugared
books begin by telling us of things which wean hour before.
might find out by searching for without them, Tomatoes are very easily preserved, and re
but the Bible begins by telling us of a tieing la i n t h e i r freshness better than a l most any o th.
whom by searching after we could not find out.
er fruit. The small kind are only used. Scald.
"In the beginning" says the Bible, "God made and peel them without breaking the flesh. Ba
the heavens and the earth," Th ere are men ties should hold about a quart only, because
now, who, like Adam of old, first affect to hide when once opened, the contents must be used
themselves from God, and then attempt to tell
up at once. Bottles made on purpose, with
of the origin of man & matter. But they can on-
large throats, and a ring on the inside, are the
ly tell us they came by, chance, asdoes Volney. best, and bottles are better than cans for all
The Bible tells God intule man and mutter, acid fruit, The calls, however, are more Citil.
In the Bible we have the highest strains debt- ly secured by solder than the bottles by corks
quence, the most completely drawn imagery— and wax, as the air is let out through a
the most expressive language and deepest tho't. small puncture after the large opening is sold-
As Job looked down the path of time, and with ered up and cans heated, and that hole stopped
prophetic eye beheld the world's advancement, with u single drop of solder.
asked, "can the lightning speak ?" The menof Every article of fruit will keep fresh if the
our day have only arrived at the answer of that air is exhausted and the bottle scaled iiyht.---
question, as from city to city and station to sta-
The least particle of air admitted through .y
tion, this silent and swift winged messenger do- imperfection of tho sealing will spoil the fruit,
spatches words almost as swift as dm% can fly.
if the air could be driven out without heat.
Sages and philosophers have searched with there would be no need. of any cooking:, and
assiduity to answer without a Bible their ori- , only just enough should be given to expel thi•
gin and destiny, but they die-I as they lived— i a i r an d not c h ange th e taste. Many person:;
in the dark. In the Bible we hat'. an those r prefer to add syrup made by about olio pound
mysteries unfolded. Jesus brought life and o f sugar to a quart of water, to all suitable
immortality to light in the Gospel. In the Bi- fruits. Omen corn, beans, peas, toruatoris„pi,
ble, for this life, the nature of God, the history pi mi t, curran t s , gooseberries, elterri f ,‘s, plumb-,
of creation, the best laws, the higheiit morality raspberries, strawberries, peaches, are the me,
and the purest religion. For the life that is to c0m ,,,,,, things putap in this way. They add
come, we have the revealment of our immortal- I greatly to the pleasures of the table. tricalk the
ity through faith and repentance toward, God, I health of those who ronsnme them: (init..; .IL
a glorious resurection, the society of iingels,and ! like, in that respect. tho common preserves?
of the spirits of the just ma d e per f ect , i n the 1 We havelinnem•fielit for ples put up in'three
presence-chamber of Gal in glory. "The Bi- ! quart cans, IA- itartlakv c o nking la on-'Opus
hie," oars Locke, "has God for its author, sal- kettle in a svruptintt, sweet. enough for meow'
vation for its end, anti truth witliont any 1111 - r ittil A "l" , ii."4.1.11" ' "" I" . "" s ' iderm-
Oniteolately, . ILl:aptOw. perteetly:
tore of error for its sub.:tune, - ''Tlot Bibb, , ti4iNx 1 . 4 t, 1 ,„,, , , m ,,,,,,
~,,t 40... 6 4iv. , , ,
alma; thq religion el Protestants." Aid: the t healing tl i, iii . tioiliose.. rca, , Air.e Ve`
gryas.despoidrwefthe.mlbiettlig ,,, s , 4 t how, who Offtifthltir ti tif6 - th te - ep • t htrzdlihto
I 4441 iti.l4ol#4 tlibiftionoq men. i*i eninti , ttilOn i 11,:;1!"'':' - -
.Atii? tiieiintftni, Al§ )(ir ' r, ?or aliy,Oiti, • 1air 4",i, k 1,4,,,F,„c0ii,7,444 . , 4 4',1ii . „ .',", .
, w~.„..". nf
.. ( 75 - 4 $,.. ',iiid c t i 2i i n ,q ul d. s . , . '„ity ' arzr apni rt in -e. 'lam": It IMIS 1,:!.?..; Ird
-.. . . .
We do not mean to oppose the Catholic
Church on the ground simply that she is wide•
ly different from the Protestant Church—but
we do oppose her because she would deprive
us of the Bible which is the standard of all true
Christians and the bulwark of every government,
where liberty has a place, and the rights of con
science are not restricted.
VOL. 19. NO. 3.2.
did such minds as Newton. Boyle, Locke, Stew
art, Abercrombie and Dick. all of whom explo
red many a field of science, sod drank frnm
many a fountain of knowledge. still thor,t, fin
the waters of life? It was because there corn,,
a time when the soul of every man will Nay or
every object of origin beneath the skies, "my
soul hat no pleasure in them"—because the,
comes a time when the brightest star in the fir
mament of literature will set in night—because
there comma time when every fountain whenee
the soul would draw one satisfying draught wilt
dry up—when no fountain save that in the
house of David can satisfy the thirsting of an
immortal soul.—The books you aro ab out to
receive are intended to be your guide—books
to direct your feet alon g the way that leads to
this fountain. This guide-book is the Bumf%
The fountain is the blood of Christ. The way
is by the hill of Calvary and Cross o f Christ.—
The light of the way is reflected by the Son of
Righteousness. The eye that catches it is the
eye of faith. The channel of the fountain is
through the Holy Ghost. The source of th.;
fountain is the Lamb of God. The fountain
and Lamb, and its source rest in the bosom of
the Father. The fountain flows down from tho
rock of ages, overspreads all this lower world
and runs hard by the gates of hell. Every one
that thirstcth may come to this fOuntain and .
drink and never die.
Again, speaking of the tree of life when he
said Infidels did not dare to touch: "This.treo
will push its roots to the boundaries of the
earth; ita beauty will never fade; its top reach
es to Heaven; its branches overshadoW' the
world; its leaves are for the healing of the ti
tions. This tree blooms for an Eternal shelter
for the redeemed of the Lord in the Paradise
of God. Bad men endeavor to crush and Sup
press the Bible—good men endeavor to spread
the Bible. Wherewith shall a young man boars
to purify his way? By taking heed thereto-ac
cording to Thy word. No wonder then our
own Wesley said "Let me be a man of one
book"—that hoof; was the Bible. No wonder
the young man's Mission have chosen this book
for their first prize offering.—Phil". Sun.