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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."