Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, July 18, 1855, Image 1
Z tfuntingbol loilrititlL WILLIAM 'BREWSTER, I EDITORS, SAM. G. WHITTAKER, TERMS : The "ttuamititioN Jounttat." is published at ha followind rates If paid in advance $1,50 If paid within six months after the time of 1.75 If paid at the end of the year And two &Ilan. and fifty cents if not pnbl till after the expiration of the year. No subscription will he taken for a legs perk.' than six months, and no paper will be dineontlitted, except at the gption of the Elite.o nntil .illarrearages are paid. Subscribers living in distant conntics,or in other Staten, will be required to pay invariably in advance. tfir The above terms will be rigidly adhered to in all CIMIR. ADVERTISCIIENI'9 Will be eberged at the following rules insertion. 2 du. 3 do. Six lines or less 25 $ $ 50 One square, (In lines,) 50 75 100 Two " (32 " ) 100 150 200 Three " (49 " _-) 1 50 225 300 Business men advertising by the Quarter, Halt Year or Year, will be charged the following rates: 6m6. 12 mu. $5 00 $0 00 3 nui: $J 00 Unn square, . . Twl sqaures. 5 00 8 00 12 00 Three squares„ 750 10 00 15 00 Four squares, 900 14 00 23 00 Five squares, 15 00 25 00 38 00 Ten Bit n nres, 25 00 40 00, 60 00 Busineks Cards not exceeding six lines, ore year, $4.00. JOB WORK: spec: ,10 cops or leis, ::, ti 4 00 BLANKS, foolscap or less, per single quire, 1 50 ..„ " " 4 or more quires, per I 00 Or Extra charges will be matie for heavy composition. dr All letters on business must be rosy PAM 10 secure sttention•lM) The Law of Newspapers. I. Sulowribers who tin na give express aofie. io the contrary, ore considered as wishing N continn.• Their 3,bscrip/i.n. 2. /, subscribers order the discontinuance of their the J udd isher May continue N scud MCM until all arrerfrages are MIA 3. If subscribers neol , ci oe rifuse to take, their newspapers from the O icc., to whirli they are direc ted, they are held regyangibie until they hare sailed their bills and ordered them discontinued. _ . 4. If snlisrilbersrolinve to ether pipers widanit 111, lisbl;•ilier, and the newspapers are seat id the. Arise,. fia.reiion, than yrs #ehl responsible. S. B echo continuo to receive or take the raper .I . roni the office, are to be considered as sub scribers and such, equally reivonsibleAr subscrip tion, Cc i f they had ordered thou. names entered upon the publi'shers books. A. Tho Courts hare also repeatedlysderqed that a Post Master who neglects to pct/loin his duty al airing reasonable notice as required by the regula- Pitmsof lie Pu 4 gill a Deparauent, of the neg lect of a person to take from Me qlice, non spa addressed to him, rattlers the Post Master liable to the rablisherfhr the subscription price.. . . . POSI'M \STEL ' S ar required by low to notify publishers by letter when their publi cations are rufased or out called fur by person, to whom they are Mont, and to rice the reason of such reread, if known. It is also their duty to frank all such lettom We will thank post masters to keep us posted up in relation to thin matter. oititct (Volt 11) THE POOR MAY DAY. DY E. Sabbath. holy 1 To toe lowly Still thou art a welcome day, When thou contest, earth nud ocean. Shade and brightne, tent n u d motiu n , Help tho poor 111f111 . S heart to pray. Sun waked rum!. ! Bird that genre3t O'er the mute, no purpled moor! Throstlo's song that stream-like (lowest! Wind, that over dew-drop guest Welcome now the woe.worn poor ! Little river, Yetilig forever ! - Clow, t old bright with tliaitVal glee ! Happy woodhis, elially walking ! Coat, within th. wA,I ruin. lcepieg Oh, that they were blessed, as ye ! Sal-ball Moll I Fur the loth Faint with [lowers thy glittering sod ; For ufflietion's smut and daughters, Bid thy mountains ; woods and waters, . Pray to Clod, the poor man's God, Palo young mother! Gasping brother! Sister toiling in despair I Grief•worn site, that lifelong diest White•lippetl child. that, sleeping, sighest! C!nme and drink the light and air. Still (led iv th ! Still he lovetit What no low can vice away ! And, oh Sabbath !Itringin2 Unto hearts of weary sa.lne,i, SO art thou "The Poor M.,11., oickct Calc. Mt. inarer.r., , s ITJETE. 110 W 11F, SHUT 11118 IT "M rb. Pepper, I labor under the impres- dignified speech hi;. Pepper drew himself ,ion that it is hightime you were getting up to his full height, and stationed himself breakfast. As my former housekeeper before Mrs. P. ready to receive expres understood all my wishes with ragurd to I sions of sorrow and of penitence ; he had these things, I found it unnecessary to give no doubt that she would fall at his feet and any orders respecting them; but with you I say it is different. As you hove never got a j 'Dear Philander, won't you please for. meal in this li-use, of course you know no- g*ve me this time, and Pll never do so any thing of the regulations of the household, more.' In the brat place, you will make a fire in And he was going to say, 'Betsy Jane, the kitchen, put on the kettle, &c. ; then you'd better not ;' but instead of doing all you will make a fire in here. That done this, what do you think oho did I Laughed yuu will cook the breakfast and bring it in him right in the face ! here, as I have always been accustomed to Mr. Pepper was awful wrathy. He taking mine in bed, and de sot consider it ! ',poke up in a voice of thunder and said : necessary to depart front that custom on ! 'Mrs. Pepper, walk right up stairs this your account ; but, should you prefer it, ! very minute, and don't let the gram grow you can eat yours in the kitchen, a:. it is under your feet while you are going nei. Perfeoly iintroierial , Mr,. Pepper, lnit I'll have you I BEE NO STAR ABOVE THE HORIZON, I'NOSIISING LIGHT TO GUIDE US, EDT THE INTELLIGENT, PATRIOTIC, lIIQjTED WHIG PARTY OF THE UNITED STATEG.". This occurred the morning after Mrs. Pepper went to housekeeping. Mrs. Pep per was a sensible woman—she made no reply to Mr. Pepper's commands ; but as soon as her toilet was finished. she left the room, and sitting down in the kitchen she thus ruminated : I "Make the kitchen firo ! Yes, I'll do . . _ . . . . . that. Then make a fire in the bedroom ! I'll see to that, too. Then take the break fast to his bedside ! Just see if I do !" And then Mrs. Pepper sat and thought fura few moments, when, apparently hav ing arrived at a satisfactory conclusion, she proceeded to business. Having got a nice fire kindled in the kitchen, she carried some coal in Mr. P.'s apartment, and filled up his stove, having first ascertained that there was not a spark of fire in it. That duty performed, she next prepared the breakfast of which she partook with great relish ; and after mat ters and things were all set to rights in the kitchen she went down town on shop. ping excursion. Meanwhile Mr. Pepper began to grow impatient. He "labored under the impres sion" that the atmosphere of his room did not grow warm very fast, and he began to feel unpleasantly hungry. Peeping out frour•behind the red curtains, he saw how affairs were with regard to the stove.— Something like a suspicion of the real state of affairs began to dawn upon his mind. He listened for a few minutes, but all was still about the house. $ 25 I 50 2 50 • hastily dressing himself, he proceeded to investigate the affair. He soon com prehended the whole of it, and was very wrathful at first ; but he comforted him• sell with the reflection that he had the power to punish Mrs. P., and he felt bound to do it, too. After some search he found the remains of his breakfast, of which lie partook with a gusto, and then sat down to wait for Mrs. P. She was a twig time in coming, and he had ample time to nurse his wrath. While sitting there he thus soliloquised : .That ever I, Philander Pepper, should lie so treated, and by a woman, too, is not to be believed. I can't believe it, no, nor I won't either. But she shan't escape, that s certain ; if she would, my reputation for dignity would be forever gode ; for liavn't I told Solomon Simple all along how I was going to make her g.it up and make the fire every scorning, and let me lie abed, and how I was going to shut her up, and feed her on bread and water, if she dared to say else wouldn't do it. , A cosy little arrangement, Mr. Pepper,' said a soft voice behind him. ! Mr. P. started up, and there stood Mrs. P. right behind his ohair laughing just as hard as she could. Mr. Pepper put on a revere look. . 'Sit down in a chair, madam,' he said, pointing to the one he had just vacated, while I have a little conversation with you. Now I should be pleased to know why you did not obey my orders this morning, and where have you been all this forenoon ?' 'Where I have been this forenoon, Mr. Pepper, I have not the least objection to tell you. I have been down town doing a little shopping. I have purchased some lovely napkins; just look at them,' said she holding them up demurely fur his in spection ; •I only paid a dollar apiece for them—extremely cheap, don't you think so ?' she mid. Mr. Pepper was astonished ; how she dived turn the conversation in this way was a mystery to him. Suddenly his bot tled wrath broke,loose. 'fuming fiercely upon her, be said— 'Betsy Jane, you disgust me; you seem to make very light of this matter, but it is more serious than you imagine, us you will find to your cost presently. If you do not Instantly by - —ardon is a subni;-- ieg my pardon in a submissive manner, I shall exert my authority to bring you to a proper sense of your misconduct, by imprisoning you in one of cry chambers until you are willing to compromise by strict obedience to my wishes.' At the close of this very eloquent and HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY ! JULY 18, 1855. know that it won't pay to continue your antics any length of time with me, Mrs. Pepper. Again I command you to walk up stairs.' 'Well, really Mr. P. it is not at all nem. sary for you to speak so loud—l am not so deaf as all that comes to; but ns for walking up stairs I have not the least ob. jection to doing so, if you will wait until I have recovered from my fatigue ; but I can't think of doing so before.' 'But you must, Mrs. P.' 'Then all I've got to say is this, you'll havo to carry me, for I won't walk.' Mr. P. looked at his wife for it moment in the greatest astonishment, but as she began to laugh at him again, he thought to himself : 'She thinks I won't do it and hopes to to get off in that way, but it won't do; up stairs she's got to go, if I do have to carry her; so here goes,' and taking the form of his lady in his arms, he soon had the antis faction of seeing her safely lodged in her prison, and carefully locking her ill, he sta tioned a little red headed youth on the front door steps to attend to calls and also to see that Mrs. P. did not escape ; and then he betook himself to a restaurant for his dinner, and afteidespa.ching that, he hurried off to his office, and was soon en grossed in business. About the middle of the afternoon;out young sentinel rushed into the office, and said, never stopping to take breath "Mr. Pepper had better run borne just as fast as be can, for that woman what's shut up be making an 'awful racket, and she bet raring around there, and rAttling things the distressingest kind, and if she besot splitting up something !nether, then I don't know what splitting be !" Without waiting to hear more, Mr. I'. seized his hat, and hurried off home at a most undignified pace. Opening the hall door, he stole up stairs ns cheerfully as possible, and applying his eye to the key-hole, he beheld a sight which made him fairly boil with rage. Mrs. P. %vas sitting in front of the fire place, reading his love letters. The nor she was engaged in perusing at that par ticular moment, was front a Miss Primrose, who it appeared had once look• ed favorably on the suit of Mr. Pepper hut a more dashing lover appearing on the scene, Miss Polly sent him a letter of dismissal, promising her undying friend. ship, and•nccompanying the same with a lock of her hair, and some walnut mats. But it was not the love letters alone that made Mr. P. so outrageous. >h had been something of a traveler in his day and had collected a great many curiosi ties in his rambles, which he had deposit. ed in a cupboard in the very room where he had confined Mrs. P., visit she had got at them. She had split up au elegant writing desk with his Indian battle axe,• in order to have a fire, as the day•was rather chilly. In one corner of the fireplace was Mr. P.'s best beaver, filled up with love let terF. On a small table, close. to Mrs. P., was a beautiful flat China dish filled with bear's oil, in which she had sunk Mr. P.'s best satin cravat, and having fired one end of it, it adorded her sufficient light for her labors—for Mr. P. had closed the blinds, for tlw better security of the culprit. On some coals in front of the fire was Mr. P.'s silver christening bowl, in which Mrs. P was popping corn which she ever and and anon stirred with the fiddle bow, mean while, occasionally punching up the fire with the fiddle, for Mr. P. had with commendable foresight, removed the shovel and tongs. _ . . Mr. P. considered to peep thro ugh the key• hole, until he had obtained a pretty correct idea of what was going on within. Never was a pepper so fired as he. Ho shook the door: it was securely fastened within, and resisted all his efforts to open it. He ordered Mrs. Pepper to open or take the consequences; hut as sho did not open it, it is to be presumed that sho pre ferred the consequences. Mr. Pepper darted down stairs like a madman. .4 must put a stop to this," he thought, , g or I shall not have a rag of cloths to my back." Procuring a ladder, be began to mount to the bed room; but Airs. P. was not to be taken so easily. She knew that Ito had left, the door unlocked, for she had exam- ined it as soon as ho had left ; but she had no idea of letting him have the benefit of her fire, so, h4stily se4ing several large b)ttles of cologne, she therew the contents upon the fire, and in a few minutes had the satisfaction of seeing it entirely ex tinguished. 'That duty performed, she left the apartment, and locking the door she stationed herself in a convenient posi tion to hear everything that transpired : In a few moments Mr. P. was in the apartment, and as soon as he had dosed the window, he stood bolt upright in the middle of the room, and said in a deep I voice— ' "Jezebel, come forth t" No answer, "Jade, do you think to escape ?" Still no response. Mr. P. begins to feel uneasy, and hastily commences to search the room; but had not proceeded far when he hears a-slight titter somewhere in the vicinity of the door. He listens a mo ment, end it is repeated. Darting to the door, he attempts to op •n it, but he finds himself a prisoner. '1• ere is one more chance he thinks, and hurries to the win dow; but, alas! for Mr. Pepper, his wife has just removed the ladder nnd he can not escape. He sits down us a chair and looks rue fully around him, and presently lie arises and picks up a few fragments of a letter which is laying on the carpet, and finds it from Polly Primrose. Ile wonders what she had done with the lock of hair. At this moment his eyes fall up. at his daguerreotype, which is laying on the table before him—mechanicilly taking it up he opens it, and sees—what? nothing but his own face—all the rest of him be ing rubbed of, and around his lovely phiz is the missing curl, and the walnut meats carefully stowed in the corner of the case. Mr. P. fairly blubbered aloud. .Good?' thought Mrs. P. "when you find your level, I'll let you out, and not till then. A little wholesome discipline will do you good, and I ain fully prepared to administer it." How long Mrs. Pepper kept her liege lord in durance vile, deponent saith not,and as to what passed between them after he was released from captivity, we are not any better informed; but of this we are sure, Mr. Pepper might have been seen a morning or two afterwards, to put his head into the bed-room, and beard to •say in a meek manner— ..Betsy June, I've made the kitchen fire, and put on the tea kettle; you please to get up and and get the breakfast !" nlisctilantolls. THE LITTLE PEDLER BY MRS. C. U. OILDERSLBEVE. One rainy afternoon in the early part of Autumn, I heard a low knock at my back door, and upon opening it I found a ped• kr. Now pedlers are a great vexation to me, they leave the gates open, they never have anything I want, and I do not like the faces that belong to most of them,— especially those of the strong men who go about with little packages of coarse goods, and I always close the door upon them, saying to myself—lazy. This was a little boy. and he was pale and wet, and looked so cold that I forgot he was a pedler, and asked him to come in by the fire. I thought he appeared as though he suspected I was going to buy something, for he commenced opening his tie box, but I had no such intention. He looked up in my face very earnestly and sadly, when I told him to warm himself by the fire, and did not wish to purchase anything. lle rose slowly from his seat, and there was something in his air which reproached me, and I detained him to in quire why he was out in the rain. lie ye. plied: 'I am out every day, and can't stay is for a little rain ; besides, most pedlers stay at home then, and I can sell more on rainy days. '[low much do you earn in a day ?' 'Sometimes two shillings, and sometimes one, and once in a while I get nothing all day, and, then, ma'am, I am very tired.' Here he gave n quick, dry cough which startled tne. 'How long have you had that cough?' '1 don't know ma'am.' 'Does it hurt you ?' 'Yes ma'am. !Where does your mother lire 1' (In heaven, ma'am,' said he, unmoved. 'Have you a father ?' , Yes, ma'am, he is with mother he re, plied in the same tone. !Have you any brothers or sisters ?' have a little sister but she went to mother about a mo uth ago.' 'What ailed her ?' 'She wanted. to see, and so do I, and I guess that's why I cough so.' '\Vhc're do you live 1' '\Vith Mrs. Brown on N. Street., .Does she give you medicine for your cough 1' .Not Doctor's medicine,•.-she is too poor but she makes something for me take.' .IViII you take something, if I give it to you?' 'No ma'am, I thank you; mother took medicire, and it didn't help, though she wanted to stay, and you see I want to go ; it wouldn't stop my cough. Good day, ma'am.' 'Wait a minute,' I said, 'I want to see what you carry.' Ile opened his box, and for once I found what I wanted. Indeed, I didn't think it would have mattered what' he had. I should have wanted it, , fo: the little pedler had changed in my eyes—be had a father and mother in heaven, and so had 1.-- How strange that peddlers never seemed like people--human, soul filled beings, before. flow thankful he was, and how his great sunken blue eyes looked into mine when I paid bite. 'You don't ask me to take a cent less,' said he, after hesitating ' a minute ; think you must be rich.' 'Oh, no,' I replied, am very far from that ; and these things arc worth more to me now than I gave for them. •Will you come again?' .Yes, ma'am, if I don't go to mother soon.' 'Are you hungry ?' 'No, ma'am, I am never hungry now, I sometimes think mother feeds when I sleep, though I don't remember it when I am awake. I only know I don't wish to eat now, since my sister died.' 'Did you feel very sad then ?' felt big in my throat, and thought I was choked, but I didn't cry a bit, ihotigh I felt very lonely at night for a while ; but lam glad she's up there now.' 'Who told you you were going to die?' 'Nobody, but I know I am. Perhaps I go belore.Christmas.' I could not endure that, and tried to make him stay, but he would run and tell Mrs. Brown what good luck be hod met with. Ile bade me good-day again cheerfully, and went out into the cold rain while I could only say, 'God be with you, my chidl!' He never came again, though I looked for him every day. At length, about New Year's, I went to the place he called. Mrs. Brown was there, but the little pil grim I his weary let were at rest, and ne ver more would his gentle knock be heard at the door of those, who, like myself, for got that necessity and stern want often sent about these wanderers from house to house, and that their employment might be far more unseemly to them than annoy ing to us. I have learned a lesson, and never see a pettier bending with his load, but my heart softens to them, and I won der it' they too do not wish to lay aside their burden and le, at rest. Human Life What is the length of human life ?is a question that a paper in Blackwood's Magazine throws some light on. The words of the Psalmist are : he days of our years are three•scoro and ten ; and if by reason of strength they arc four-score years, yet is there strength, labor and sorrow,•for it is soon cut off and we fly away." It is believed that the form of human life is lengthened in the progress of culti vation and then the average agea. , which people die more numerous. The groat requisites of longevity are moderation of appetites and passions, and contentment of mind. It would, perhaps, be more philosophical to say, that constitutions adapted to long life possess that equani mity and body regularity which conduce to trunquillife. Buffon says : , the man who Liles not of accidental disease, lives everywhere to ninety or one hundred years." Haller, who was an enthusiast, and who gave no reason for his theory, contended that the utmost limit of human life is not within two hundred years." Buffon looked at this subject philosoph ically ; thought that he discovered a pro portion between the time of growth and duration of life. But lie did not accurate ly measure the thpe of growth. which modern anatomisns have fixed with more precision. . . . Investigations show that the b f eis of his rule is correct in the maia,but that the true proportion is a multiple of five. Alan grows for 20 years and lives to 90 or 100 The' Camel, 8 " 40 The horse, 5 " The ox, 1 44 15 to 20 The lion, 4 " , 20 The dog, 2 " 10 or 12 The eat, 14 " oor 10 The hare, 1 " The Guinea pig, 7 mos. 6 or 7 Death before 100 years is premature ac cording to this theory ; and the writer di vides the periods of human life thus: The first ten years of life arc infaucy, pmperly no calleir. [WEBSTER. The second ten is the period of boy. hood. The first youth is from twenty to thirty, nod from thirty to forty the second youth ful term. The ,first manhood is from forty to fifty five. Tho second from fifiy five to SEVEN TY. This period of manhood is the age of strength the manly period of human lifo. After that comes the begining of old age. "From seventy to eighty-five is the first period of old age; and eighty-five the second old age begins. There is a consolation in this theory for ~ .slow people" in this fast age.— There is warning and instruction to othqrs. A"fast youth" means a precipitate death; precocity is shortness of life. The youth who is manly before his years, who enters on the career of passion and enjoyment with untimely eagerness, .finds that ago hastens to him will footsteps quite as rap id ns those with which manhood approach ed. The motto applies to those hot house youths ; 'Soon ripe, soon rotten! " On the other hand, the lad who slowly ripens in the shade, is sound to the core, and pre serve his old strength through protracted years. The essayist who thus gratefully pro longs the age of manhood to seventy, and postpones the beginning of old age till then insists that this decline of life is marliod by as 'mirth pleasure as youth itself. The Human Beard. Wear a beard upon your ehiu.—{King Lear. Have our readers never thought of the utter fully of shaving, the absurdity of the practise of cutting off the beard which was not given man by his Creator for nothing? We have, and we have come to the conch'. sion that the practice of shaving is alike ridiculous and absurd, and that it violates one of the laws of nature. Now our beard was not given for no puvpoge--that is evident. It was created for sume pur pose, and that was to keep the face and throat warm and thus be conductive to health. Let us look at a sew facts. It has been calculated that if one shaves thr,,e titans a work it i ; rs twenty t;n:es as fast as if he did not shave. Allowing two inches as the annual growth of the beard, it will be seen that lie cuts off forty inches, or more tkan a yard of ha;r a year, and the nutriment which supports this and is thus wasted might have gone to nourish other parts of his body, and render him a healthy and handsome man. Again, allowing twenty minutes to each shaving operation, three times a week amounts to one hour a week , —tifty-tio hours a year. Supposing a man to shave forty years, we find he has consumed about three months in the simple act of shaving; and calculating the expense of each operation at the small sum of six cents we find it has cost him three hundred and sixty dollars ! In view of these facts we cannot but regard the practice of sha ving as a decidedly barba;ous one, and which ought to be discountenanced by the progressive civilization of the age. The l'atriarchs did not shave, and their beards gave them a noble, venerable appvaran e. If after reading this our male readers shall resort again to the hiueous razor, we shan't object, through it strikes us that the whole system of shaving is net its accordance u ith reason or the late of nature diba drgus. A Benighted Region. The citizens of the vicinity of Tuscam his, Ala., have for senw time past, reso lutely torn down the telegraph wires, as they say that during the long drought the clouds were frequently seen to gather over the telegraft wire and bile for a half hour trying their best to rain, but had to give it up at last.' The following proclamation has been found posted on trees along the line. The State of Alabama / tht . sthmay 1854 Marion (*minty S • - Notice to the 3lanagers of the telegraft Ware arc hereby forewarned to not put up the ware any more long at at a time if you do not let it stay down the hole country is going to• Just go before your eyes and tare it down and tare out the posts and throw away the ware and • skip the first man that sail any thing against it and thro v hia hid acrows A pole 00000 Jump up John the Wolf ketcher EllifAt an ussoCiaian dinner a debate arose us to the benefit of whipping in brin ging up children. Old Moses took the af &illative. His opponent, a worldly young minister, whose reputation for ve racity was not very high, affirmed that parents often did harm to their children by punishment, from not knowing the facts•of • the case. .lithy," said he, "the only time my father whipped me was for tel. ling the truth." ••Well" retorted Mmies, !.it owed you, didn't i , ." The d.,(1 ,r lea' VOL. 20. NO. 29, *mgr.. Certain Cnre for the Weevil. As a matter of much importance just now to our grain growers, we extract the following from the Akron (Ohio) Beacon: .We are informed by Mr. Chamberlain, of the City Mill, that the farmers of Ver- mont are in favor of heading the move ments of the weevil ; after it makes its. up. pearance they go through their wheat field, about the time the wheat is heading immediately after a shower or while tho dew is on it, and scatter newly slacked lime broad cast, so that it will adhere to the heads and sterns of the grain. They use about a bushel to the acre. "Good lime should be secured, and slackened, by sprinkling a little water over it, so as to retain all it strength. A paddle may be used in sprinkling it. Thu mine dy has, it is said, been so effectually tried, as to leave no doubt of the result. “Strips in large wheat fields left untou• ched by the lime, for the experiment, have been entirely destroyed by the weevil, while the grain on each side was saved. "Since this intelligence was received, Mr. Jesse Allen, of the Centro Mill, has received corroborating information from a Muskingum county farmer, who had seen the seine practice and the same, result. Potatoes. It would be an excellent plan for every farmer to oqsionally plant the potato bull, and thus get new varieties, as well as heal the seed. Continued to planting of pota toes, without resorting to the seed, is an absurd as to take roots from an old tree to produce an orchard. Plant small, but sound and healthy pc; toes-••cutting impairs the vitality of the sprout. For healthy potatoes, a light, dry, loos' and warm soil is preferable. A wet, heavy compact soil promotes decay.. The flavor of a potald is materially affec ted by the soil and manure. Lime, wood ashes, charcoal, plaster, salt, and all other antiputrescent articles are good as they add to the heaitn potatv, a...•.,t1 to its richness and flavor. For manure, well rotted compost, is prefefable. Unrot• led stable manure is too strong and heating and give them a disagreeable flavor. A LONDON MARKET House.—On the. 10th ult. the new Metropolitan Cattle Market in place of the one which has so long been held in Smithfield, London, was opened with appropriate ceremonies by Prince Albert. The market may be fairly Characterized as one of the sights of London. It is is situated in the nerth of the metropolis, near the North London railway and occupies no less than 151 acres of land forming a square area of 800 feet paved throughout with granite, and well supplied with water and drainage. .0,11 all aides of the quadrangle are roofed sheds for sheep, calves and pigs. while the open space is for the oxen. In the centre is a building for banking purposes. with n clock tower 150 feet high. he market will hold 80,000 sheep, 6400 oxen, 1400 calves and 800 pigs. MILLING CORN.—Hilling corn is an at tempted substitute for deep plowing. If corn land is plowed deep, there is no need of haling. The roots will strike down in stead of stopping at a hardpan, and wait ing for mellow earth, in the form dibilling to cover them. By deep plowing you give the roots a chance to go down, and they will go down as deep as nature requires, without having the earth piled over them. Never disturb the roots after the tenth of July. If weeds, or grass are getting up. cut them off, but it is better to let the tares grow together, lest while ye dig up the tares, ye pluck up also the corn with them —Ex. To Cone HOLLOW HORN.—Take the tail of a muskrat—two if you please—cut them up, flue; steep them arid put them in a mess of bran of meal, prepared as usual for cows, and feed to the animal. 1. have never known it to fail even in the last stages of that complaint. Spirits of turpentine will usually give Tenet; and my method of applying it is to wet a large woollen thread with it, tie it round the horn, and push it down close to under the hair. It comes then in contact with the pith of the horn. J. W. viEst..The editors of the Detroit Times' say we heard a day or two since, the fol lowing illustration of early piety : 'Pray God bless father and mother, and Anna, and by jinks I must scrabble quick to get in o bed before Mary does. Mr Farmers should keep accounts of their receipts and expenditures, for every