Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, July 18, 1855, Image 1

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tfuntingbol loilrititlL
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airing reasonable notice as required by the regula-
Pitmsof lie Pu 4 gill a Deparauent, of the neg
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cations are rufased or out called fur by person,
to whom they are Mont, and to rice the reason
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to frank all such lettom We will thank post
masters to keep us posted up in relation to thin
oititct (Volt 11)
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
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 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
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
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
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 !"
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.
'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
'[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
'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,
'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
'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
. . .
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.
The second ten is the period of boy.
The first youth is from twenty to thirty,
nod from thirty to forty the second youth
ful term.
,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
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
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
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,
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.
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
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.
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