:.~ t e funtingbon WiWet BREWSTER, EDITORS. 1 SAL • RITTABER, iefcrt Vactin. WHEN I AM DEAD. W e have been reading a new hook entitled Mabel Ware, in which we find the following beautiful lines. They pleased us so well, and appeared so truthful that we have taken the liberty to transfer them to our columns, for the benefit of the ./iiiirsars patrons. Are they not singularly sweet, fresh, and pneticali— "W hen I am dead, the joyous earth Will give in tones ns blithe ns now, It; ylnd exultant voices forth While clods shall press;; darkened brow. Nor will the itoowsky be kss bright. Nor any singing bird less loud Nor will they tail away less light, The phantom fleets of fleecy cloud. No flower will wear a tint more sad, No grasses fall a shade less green ; No rivulet will he less glad, Singing, its pebbly banks between. Above the russet autumn ground, Each tree will fling a flag as brave, As that whieli with a murmuring sound, To day the trees around me wave. For what am I, that earth should wail, Or birds be mute, that I am gone-- That days, and grass, and flowers should pale, Or blithe toned brooks should learn to moan? Yet, oh ! how'er I school my heart, 'Tis sad, as sad can be, to believe— Nor :my rules, nor any art, Can ever teach me not to grieve,— To believe, that sounds will rise and fall, That odors will he wafted by— That all fair sights will live, and all. All shall abide, but I must die." *dal #Thrcifintp.. From the Boston Atlas, GOOD ADVICE. We are very sorry to say that every hour furnishes conclusive evidence that the foxes are not all dead yet, and that here and there a g-ose survives in all the glory of pristine verdancy. Let those who doubt the truth of our assertion read the astounding proclamations which sundry Irish .patriots" are emitting in various parts of the country. The history of ev ery pitsteffort to secure the indapendenee of Ireland has been a history of weekncss and of folly, of extravagance in plan and of feebleness in execution, of blood and bravery worse than wasted, of frantic and inconsiderate efforts, ending in complete failure. 'there was, we admit, in the self sacrificing struggle of Fitzgerald, of Emmett, and of other unfortunate Irishmen something which touches the heart and a wakens our pity for the untimely fate of deluded but earnest men. 'f he wrongs under which their country was bending were unquestionable, and, while they grie viously mistook her power to throw off the load, they attested, by the surrender of life and of fortune, the sincerity of their patriotism. They have gone to their ac count and in their place re have a clams of windy and wordy men, who mistake talk for action, and who are seeking for their own purposes to stimulate an outbreak which can bring only shame and suffering upon Ireland, Already in their own land they have tried the experiment of revolu tion and have failed. We do not say that they had a lair chance of success but we do believe that they failed because a large majority of the best people of Ireland were unwilling to follow them, and shrunk from converting the country into a pande monium. They failed most certainly, whatever may have been the cause of the failure; and at this moment the land which they sought to revolutionize is growing quiet, contended and prosperous under the influence of stringent but beneficent mea sures. Ireland, rid and well rid of those who made agitation a mere profession, is engiged, not in monster meetings and murderous frays, but in vigorously dovel oping.her agricultural resources, and in securing that real independence which in- pressed social comfort can alone achieve. But, while Ireland is thus minding her pwn business, a few of her children in the United States, calling themselves exiles, are engaged in schemes for her liberation from the British crown—in forming clubs and collecting coinfor the sake of sending to her a donation of fire and slaughter. These moments insignificant as they re allyare, have excited the attention of the British Government, and one of their first evil effects has been to create feelings of jealousy between great Powers now fortu nately at peace. We believe English ap prehensions to be utterly unfounded, We do not believe that the first tnan or the first musket will ever be transmitted from America to aid any Irish rebellion. We have no reason to think that a dollar of the cash collected in that benevolent be half will ever find its wny into the chest of any army of liberation. The whole thing is a shallow *ham, calculated to de lude those who merely feel without think ing. But this does not lessen the moral responsibility of those who, to gratify their own selfish purposes, embroiling a Gov ernment from which they have fled with another the protection of which has been liberally exten.led to them. Intelligent writers in England ought to understand the comparative unimportance of these pro jects, and distance ought not to render them so formidable. But we have waited in vain for any just estimate in England of American politics or society. Whatev er floats upon the surface and makes a noise in the newspapers is eagerly seized upon, and unlimited and most unauthori zed deductions are drawn from it. Igno rance magnifies mole-hills into mountains, multiplies a little gathering into an army, and gives the dignity of official documents to crude and hastily-written articles in the newspapers. In this way an infinite a mount of mischief is effected. That which creates apprehension in England only oc casions laughter here ; but the misunder stand ing has still its legitimate result in jealousy and hard feeling, which may in time ripen into positive hostility. For our own part, having at all times defended to the best of our ability their rights,we must now heg our adopted citi zens in the most kindly spirit to keep clear of Irish Emigrant Aid Societies, and of all societies of a kindred character. Much as they may desire the independence of Ireland, let them rest assured that those associat . 41 be found • ions will . utterly power less to effect this object. They can only serve to engender a clannish spirit, at war with our social condition and contrary to the spirit of our institutions. When an Irishman has made up his mind to live in the United States, to become an Ameri can citizen, to abide hein during his life, and to leave here a heritage for his chil dren, the best thing lie coo is to forget Ireland as soon as possible.. There may not be much poetry in this advice, but there is something better—there is sound, practical common sense. No alien is ob liged to take upon himself the obligations of an American citizen, but when he has done so, with the solemnity of an oith, should begin at once to assimilate hiinself as much as possible to the society about him. He cannot owe a divided allegi. mice. Let him cease wholy to be an Irishman when lie becomes in the eye of Metall, an Sine 'kW?. In this way, and only, can he disarm those who are endea voring to make his position uncomfortable. • • • • • Let him keep his money for his wife and children ; let him expend it in the purchase of potatoes and pork ; let him be sure that had luck will befall every sixpence paid into the treasury of revolu tionary societies. They have commenced with bluster and they will end in smoke. The duties of art .qmerican citizen are close Wald his pet, and there is a field broad enough for the most intense patri otism at home, although it may be merely an adopted home, without tootling our specie and our sympathy across the o cean. THE GREAT TACIFIC RAILROAD The work in progress through Missouri, of which we have made frequent notices, is intended as the first link of a great road to the Pacific through what stay be termed the central route. Its advocates hove here tofore set forth its prospective advantages and look forward to great results. There is another scheme which is also pressed upon the public attention, and for aid to which an application is to be made to Congress at the coming session. The Hon. Thomas Butler King has addressed to some New York capitalists an elaborate letter going sorneivhat into detail upon what he deems the advantages of the south ern route through Texas. We transcribe from the New Orleans Picayune, a synop sis of Mr. King's views, omitting some passages not essential to an understanding of the subject ' Mr, King condemns as unwise and its practicable, from their utter unwieldiness, the propositions which seemed to find fa vor in the last Congress for undertaking three roads at a time. One is sufficient for all wants of the country for many years; and, what is more decisive, three could not be built. It is an undertaking beyond our capacity, and would be a waste if it could be accomplished.. The building of one road is as much as the next Congress can hope for under the most judicious counsels and with the tnost liberal disposition on the part of Government and capitalists, and facts have reduced the choice of routes to two, the extreme northern and the extreme southern of the lines surveyed. The extreme northern mute is that which wends from Chicago, through the States of Illinois and lowa, around the Great Bend of the Missouri, and, crooning the depression in the rocky Mountains at or near the point of the Hudson Buy Coln• parry's portage, to the wa;crs of the Co " LIBERTY AND UNION, NOW AND FOREVER, ONE AND INSEPARABLE." HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 19, 1855. lumbia river; thence, across the great ba sin and the Cascade Mountains, to Puget's Sound, or descending the gorges of the Columbia river for many hundred miles through the territory of Oiegon to the mouth of that river. The line of 32 deg, he considers geogra phically a better central line for the free States or Northern than the line of 48d without taking into consideration at all the claims of the South. But he proceeds to maintain that the line through Texas and across the country recently acquired from Mexico by the Gadsden treaty is practical central, and absolutely the best and the only one really and speedily practicable. The point of commencement for the single road he places on the eastern line of Tex ns, which affords the greatest facilities for connecting it with the railways which are extending in that direction from St. Louis, Cairo and Memphis, through Arkansas, by way of Little Rock - and Fulton, from Vicksburg, Louisiana, to Shreveport, and from New Orleans by the Opelousas rail road, cline bringing the system of railways throughout the Union, North and South, by converging lines, to that point on the eastern border of Texas, and connecting them with the line under consideration to the Pacific, These railroads are all in a state of progress, and their ultimate com pletion cannot be delayed beyond a very few years. Connecting as they do with the railways in the Southern, Middle, and Northern States, their completion will open a railway communication from New York and all other Atlantic cities and New Or leans, more than half the distance across the continent from the Atlantic. The route from this point to the Pacific, as surveyed by Col. A. B. Gray, is 1,5'21 miles long, through a mild and salubrious climate, free from snow and ice, and prac• ble throughout the whole year. Mr. K. gives a glowing description of the fertility and mineral riches of the country through which it passes, and his calculations of the business of the road and its profits as an in vestment are very large and sanguine. A round estimate of the coot of the road is $45,000,000 to $50,000,000 from the eastern point designated to the Pacific at San Diego, and $55,000,000 to San Fran cisco, with a gross annual receipt for freight 'and passengers of 26,000,000. These, however, will bear a great deal of scrutiny before they are taken to be certain. The basis of the credit to raise these menus is thus stated : First, the grant from Texas of ten thousand two hundred and foi\v acres of land for every mile of of rood constructed within her limits, or for the su\mosed distance on the route in dicated in \he law, from the eastern line of the State, apposite the town of Shreveport in Louisiana, to El Paso---seven hundred and eighty-three miles of road; 7,017,920 acres, at five dollars au acre, would be $35,089,600 ; a contract to be made on the part of the United States to pay (or n term of at least fifteen years five millions per annum for the transportation of mails, troops, and mu nitions of war, together with an appropriation of land through that por tion of New Mexico acquired under the Gadsden treaty, of at least twenty sections to the tulle, for a distance of 578 miles, or 7,398,400 acres ; and a grant to be ob.ain ed from Congress to the State of California of thirty sections, or 19,200 acres of land per mile, for the distance the road may be constructed in that State. It will be seen that the work is designed to be under the management of a priest, company ; but the basis of the credits upon which it relies is to be found in grants of land already made in Texas, grants ex pected from the United States, and appro. priations to the extent of five millions per annum from the treasury as advance pay. ments on services to be rendered after the road is completed. A HAPPY NAN. In several of yesterday's papers appear ed the following advertisement extraordi nary, which we doubt not created some excitement throughout the city ; Witern.---New Orleans, Oct. 8, 1855.—. The lion. Mrs. Marceline Aubran gave birth to a fine daughter this morning at 7 o'clock— mother and child doing finely." Yesterday we found out all about it, and as none of the parties concerned can read, and in consequence will not have their feelings lacerated by seeing themselves in print, we shall tell our readers all about it. Mr. Aubran, the husband of the honor. ablo lady and mother above advertised, is an eccentric old Frenchman, who keeps s grocery on Euterpe street. Some years ago the wife of his bosom, not being able to present him with an heir, became dis gusted with him and ran off, After a while she returned and opened negotis- tions with him for a divorce. He being willing, the knot hymenial was severed by due course of law, and each returned to a life of single blessedness, After a lapse of time, however, their blessedness degen erated into misery, their 'affinities' brought them together, again, and after a brief courtship they agreed to get spliced again, and every thing was got in readiness for the event, Justice Galenite being selected as the officiating priest. On the day pre ceding the wedding, however, the intended bride gave way to her former fickleness, and ran off to Mobile with another tnan, who married her there. This made Au bran so Itizen' mad, that after a courtship of forty-eight hours, he,inarried his house keeper, Miss Kate. Being Spunky, with al, he' published his' marriage in some of the city papers, the notice being preceded by one announcing his first marriage and subsequent divorce. 'this was two years ago. A year having passed after the last marriage, without offering the husband any promise, or even a ray of hope, that the one wish of his heart might be fulfilled, his divorced wife, who had returned to the city with her husband, maliciously circu lated stories throughout the neighborhood that he was nothing but old dry bones, who was never intended by nature to be a father ; telling this as one who had a good right to know. Aubran,though con siderably nettled at heart by this, made belief that ho didn't care, sad threw the taunt back by telling her not to brag until she had presented her second husband with an heir, a thing which she had not done yet. Within the past year, the neighbors be came aware of a great change in Aubran. He became frisky, good-humored, and somewhat younger in appearance; and, as months rolled on, he became more and more so—all which was rather wonderful, he being in his fifty-fifth year. Within the last 'malt he has been, to a certain extent, wild. On Wednesday morning the grand event came nit. Joe a-- —.la then "flew off the handle," entirely. He flew around the neighborhood as if his house were afire, greeting his friends with hand-wringings and exclamations• of "All right, old fellow—all right, all right !" The first outburst of enthusiasm over, he reflected awhile, and determined" to publish the glorious news to the world. Being un able to write English, he got a friend to act as amanuensis, and dictated to him the unique notice which heads this article.-- The prefix "Hon." to his wife's name, is a speciality, intended to compliment her and at the same time to crush forever the satanic glee and the tattlings of his divor ced wife. In the advertisement the mother and child are announced as doing well. We are gratified to add that the father is get ting along splendidly. He is at last in the honeymoon of his existence.—N. 0. Cres cent, Oct. 11. Effects of Heat upon Meat. A well cooked niece of meat should be full of its own juice or natural gravy,— in roasting, therefore, it should be exposed to a quick fire, that the external surface may be !node to contract at once. and the albumen to coagulate, before the juice has had time to escape from within.— And so in boiling water, the outer part contracts, the internal juice is prevented either from escaping into the water by which it is surrounded, or from being di. kited or weakened by the admission of wa ter among it. When cut up therefore, the meat yields much gravy, and is rich in fla vor. Hence a beef-steak or a mutton chop is done quickly, and over a quick fire that the natural juices may be retain ed. On the other hand, if the meat bo ex posed to a slow fire its pores remain open the juice continues to flow from within, as it has dried from the surface, and the flesh pines, and becomes dry, hard, and unsa vory. Or if it be put into cold or tepid water, whioh is afterwardsgmdually bro' t to a boil, much of albumen is extracted before it coagulates, the natural juices for the most part flow out, and the meat served in a nearly tasteless state. Hence to pre pare good boiled meat, it should be put at once into water already brought to a boil. But to make beef tea, mutton broth, and other meat soups, the flesh should be put into cold water, and this afterwards very slowly warmed and finally boiled. The advantage derived from simmering, a ter m not unfrequent in cookery books, depends very much upon the effects of slow boil ing as above explained —Chemistry of Common Lye. ICS Would you be happy t Then do good. Remember that the Great God will repay whatever you loan him, and that with usury. He asks no men to work for nothing...—Swedenborg. GRANDEUR OF GOD. BY U. U. J. JUDAH. • • • Go abroad Upon the paths of nature, and, when all . Ito voices whisper, and its silent things Are breathing the deep beauty of the world, Kneel at its 4 imple altar, and the God Who Lath the living waters shall be there. [ IVittio. -- • Oft, when plowing the mighty deep, I've beheld His grandeur in the placid ruffling of the waves—in the gentle breeae of heaven that wafted me to a far oil clime —in the fury of the tempest—in loud sounding bursts of thunder, amid vivid fleshes of lightning—aye I at a time when fancy pictured to my imagination the jew. efry of the ocean as my tomb, and my dirge the eternal music of its roar. Then, again, I've viewed it in the abatement of the storm—in the ceasing of his anger— in the renovated splendor of the sky—in the returning brilliancy of the stars—in the uriparalltAl beauty of the luminary of light—and in the tranquility of the unruly winds. Reader Dost thou think that mt,n can adequately portray the grandeur of his Maker 1 Dost thou suppose that r. 9 can dilate on that which is beyond the ken of mortality? The student, in the solitude of his little chamber, may trim and replen ish his midnight lamp, and out watch the slow-paced eve; the poet may call into re• quisition his breathing thoughts, and array then: in the all powerful garb of burning eloquence : the orator may summon to his aid the force of that mighty mind with which He endowed him ; the learn:d di vine, in the hallowed temple, may extend his hands, uplift his eyes, and bend his knees in the solemn attitude of prayer, and in accents of thanksgiving and praise. But 'lts all in rain to correctly discuss a theme which is ad infinilmn, slblime and magnificent. Grandeur of God ! Ye can witness it in the glorious gift of intellect to man— rend it in the purer language of his broyv-- --rrr Toe sprenuer Or tnollght—in that victo ry of mind which causes the mighty of the earth to recognize the magnificent bright ness of his name, and the beautiful to hail the brilliancy of his talents as a talisman of love. Contemplate ;t in the mechanism of the human heart—in the construction of the casket by which it is enclosed—in that immortality therein which will flourish in eternal youth, long, long after the encir cling dust has crumbled to that from which it emanated. Behold it in the pleasing melody of the birds as they tune to heaven their songs—, in the placid harmony of the air—in the lovely flowers as they throw around their richest perfume—in the rivulets as they leap on their courses—in the glowing loveliness and unmasked beauty of na ture— "In every stream his beauty flows, Diffusing joy and wealth ; Is every breeze his spirit blows— The breath of life and health." No Mornaa.—"She has no mother !" What a volume of sorrowful truth is com prised in that single utterance—no mother. Deal gently with the child. Let not the cup of her sorrows be overflowed by the harshness of your bearing, or your uneym pathizing coldness. Is she heedless of her doing ?—forgetful of her duty ? Is she careless in her movements? Remember, oh, remember, "she has no mother !" LCD St & tumor. The an that Kissed the Three Girls. A young man who boarded at a house) in the country where several coy damsels, who seemed to imagine that men are terri ble creatures, whom it was an unpardona ble sin to look at, was one day accosted by an acquaintance, and asked what he tho't of the young ladies with whom he boarded. He replied that they were very shy and reserved. 'So they are,' returned the other, 'and so much so that no gentleman can get near enough to tell the color of their eyes.' , That may be,' said the boarder quickly, 'but I will stake a million that I can kiss them, all three, without any trouble.' .That you cannot do,' cried his friend, 'it is an achievement which neither you nor any other man can accomplish . ' The other wao.poeitive, and invited his friend to the house to witness his triumph. They entered the mom together, and the three girls were at home, sitting beside their mother, and they looked prim and demure as John Rogers at the stake. Our hem assumed a very grave aspect even to dejection, and looking wistfully at the clock, breathed a sigh as deep as al gebra and as long as a mina!e dialogue at the street door. His singular deportment now attracted the attention of the girls, whocast their slow opening eyes upward to his countenance. Perceiving the im pression he had made, he turned to his companion, and said in a doleful voice : 'lt wants three minutes of the time 'Do you speak of ?' eaid the old lady, laying down her sowing work. 'Dinmer !' said he, with a bewildered as pect, and pointing, as if unconsciously, with curled forefinger at the clock. A silence ensued during which the fe male part of the household glared at the young man with irrepressible curiosity. 'You will sec me decently interred,' he said, turnining away to his friend. His friend was as Much puzzled as any body present, and his embarrassment, ad ded to the intended effect; but the old la dy being no longer able to contain herself, cried : of ~ ,N Ir. C-, pray what do you speak 'Nothing,' answered he in a lugubrious tone, 'but last right a spirit appeared unto me,'—(here tile girls rose to their feet and drew near,) 'and the spirit gave me warn• ing that I should die exactly at 12 o'clock today, and you see it wants but half a mi nute of the time I' The girls turned pale, and their hidden sympathies were at once awakened for the doomed and departed one. They stood chained at the spot. looking alternately at the clock, and the unfortnnate youth; he then walked to the oldest of the girls, and taking her by the hand, bade her a solemn farewell. He also imprinted a kiss upon her trenbling lips, which she did not at tempt to resist. He then bade the second and third farewell in the same manner.— His object was achieved, and that moment the clock struck twelve. Hereupon he looked around and ejaculated : .Whci would have believed that an apparition would tell such a lie ?' It was probably the ghost of Ananias and Sapphire. .no INJUVr dens understood understood the joke, and when they did, they evinced no resentment. Invasion of Ireland! Something "sure" has grown out of the recent meeting of the Irish Emigrant Aid Association. The Boston Courier gave an account on Monday, of the departure in four jolly boats, of a mysterious look ing crew from Long Wharf, on Sunday night. The following letter from one of the soldiers to his wife in this city, gives an inkling of the business of the ex. peditton : OFF HULL AMERIRY, In tho hrst boat. i Monday night November 12th, 1855. S Me deer honey—The expedition that sailed to take Ireland last night, had:wet tive ov it. We hadn't a tone of an um brelleo, and nothing to keep the drhown ing rain out. Cols lloheenoe and O'Mea ' •ho promised to meet uz at Hull, with their sashes and nerds on, sent word that it was '- rainin ' too heavy," and that they wouldn't be able for to come ' , till the sthorm was over." This was agraw dis appointing to the boys; but they ar'nt to be turned from their purpis. They'll take Ireland, anyhowt and annex her to the Sthates. That's part or the plan of the expedishon. Ireland, when jined to the Union, is to be called the "big producer," which is the latin for man-maker." We have whiskey galore in the caddy; but the bags er powther, which were put in the bottom of the boats, got as wet as say water itself. We're going to drhy it the first fair day, The army is full of spir its— if I can judge anything from the a mount that they have debunk since they set sail. I wish you'd wind me an um brelley ; send it through the Hull post office. It will git to me be the time that the colonies arrive. Hurrah for the sthrips, hurrah for the sthars. Wid pow•ther and steel We'll make the lion squad, And give back to Ireland her nationality. From your devoted and darlin' cudeen. Mmunsr. MULLADON. an American by. P. S. You might sind tho umbrelley by John Smith telegraff. Mister Smith is a friend of the expedishon, and for the sake of Ireland wud sind it on the wire to Hull. P. S. Agin. If the cornels don't come in the mornin the invather's will go on without em. Who d'y think will be com mander thin I Be gorm t'is myself.— &bur Maryann in the cradle, and whisper to her that her daddy is a ginneml Inn America they boast that an old shirt, thrown in at one end of a paper-mill came out at the other "Robinson Crueoe." They also drive a monster trade in pigs ; The animals walk up an inclined plane in Cincinnati, and come down the other side tolerably pickled and cured r~:r. T ,a VOL. 20. NO. 51 f l arnter',s 6olumn. Indications of a Good Cow. To the marks furnished by the veins and the escoutcheons, says Maple, are to be addact the following :—A homogenious. very voluminous, bat yielding udder, sink ing much by milking; covered with a thin akin and fine hair; a good constitution, an ample cheat, regular appetite, and great inclination to drink ; flesh rather le to than fat ; a slender staple skin ; soft short hair, a small head, fine horns, quick eye, gentle look, feminine air, and tine seek. How to Plow under Tall Weedy . Where weeds have not been kept down by other crops, or by close pasturing, they have, as might be expected, made a mo't luxumnt growth, and as many such fields will have to be plowed for wheat and tall crops, it becomes a matter of much impor tance to know how we best oats turn them under with the plow, so as to be completely out of the harrow and drill.— An excellent way to do this, is to fasten one end of a heavy log chain to the end of a double treeto which the furrow, or off horse is attached, bringing the other under the beam of the plow, just before the share, and confining it there. The chain should lag enough to touch .he ground, or nearly so. A little practice will teach how tight it should be. By this plan the weeds are drawn into the furrow and completely covered by the furrow-slice falling on them while there. Will some body tell us of a better way? Tansey and leaches. A writer in the N. Y. Tribune, recom mends the sowing of tansey about the roots of peach trees, as a means of pre serving them, He says that he once knew a large peach tree, which was more than forty-seven years old, while several generations of similar trees in the same ination, and a hed of tansey was discov ered about the trunk. It was naturally imformed that the preservation of this tree to such a green old age was attributable to the presence of that plant. It was deci ded to try the experiment on others, and accordingly, a few roots were placed about each of the other trees planted on the premises some of which gave signs of de cay. Not only has it preserved for seve. ral years but renovated these that were unsound. The order of this plant, he says, doubtless keeps off the insect ene mies of this kind of tree and It would have the same effect on others, as the plum apple and pear, as well as the elm, syca. more, and other ornamental trees. Water in Barn-Yards. Such is the solvent power of water, that if admitted in large quantities into barn , 1 yards it will dissolve into the earth, if tho soil be porous, or into streams and ponds, a large share of fertilizing salts of man ure. The manure of stalls should if pos -1 sible be housed. It should be kept moist with the urine of animals, and sufficient littler should be used to absorb the whole of this, unless it be preserved in a tank or be used as liquid manure, the policy of which is perhaps doubtful in this country, were labor W high, though it may be well in Europe where labor is plenty. The true proceoding for barn-yard manure, is to keep it as far as possible moist lost not to suffer it to be drenched. If dry and hut, it gives its neutricious gasses to the winds; if drenched, it looses its most fertilising salts : when neither scorched nor drench ed it is decomposed more gradually, and it retains in itself a large portion of its en riching properties.— The Farmer, Amherst Massachusetts. New Mode of Grafting. The Now Philadelphia (Ohio) Advocate says :—"A new mode of propagating choice varieties of fruit trees, superior to the or dinary mode of grafting, was presented, to us the other day, by our friend Joseph Whisper, an intelligent farmer of Goshen township. It is very easy of application, and should be known by all amateur in the fruit line. 'Fake one of the long twigs of the willow, split it every few inches, and therein inseat ►our scion at right an gles with the willow branch ; then cover it with earth, that a few inches of the scion may present above the surface of. the gtound. The sap of this willow branch induces ten abundant crop of roots in a short time, and your new tree, root and branch, is soon in vigorous growth. Much ado has been made recently about a French discovery—sticking the scion in a potato and thus planting it—but friend W. pro nounces it not so Certain a method as his. We suppose anything else with abundant sap, will answer as well as willow."
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers