'1[ .. 1 __t - -" . vtn.tivig/#Oll 3.'outu.ot WILLIAM BREWSTER, } SAM. G. WHITTAKER, EDITORS. SzeVottrg. Fashionable Streit Sweepers Splashing through the gutters, Travelling through the mire, Mud up to the ankles, And a leetie higher. Little boys uproarious 'Cause you show your feels Mess me ! this is glorious, Sweeping down the streets. Bonnet on the shoulders, Nose op to the sky; Both hands full of flounces, Raised a la Shaug—high 1 Underskirts bespattered, Look amazing neat ; And your silks get "watered" Sweeping down the street Street sweep at the crossing, Says you spoil her trade Guesses you're the patent Street-sweeper ready-made ; (lives you a slight jostle While she joins your suite; Gracious I what a hustle Sweeping down the street I heaps of dirt and debris Close behind you trailing ; Joker says "wet dry-goods Make first-rate retailing !" Straws, eigar-stumps, "catch it,' And augment the fleet ; Goodness I what a freshet, Sailing down the street I If men admire such fashions, I wish to licuven they'd try 'ern If they'll agree to wear 'ear, We'll agree to buy 'em. They II but our understauding, They fetter flt , t our feet Till we're not hit a baud, en Po4e,int dov.ll the shrug. titect Cafe. THE EXPERIENCE OF A Ca:ORGILL OLACIMMITIL CHAPTER I. At the entrance of one of those gorges, or gaps it the great Alapachian chain of mountains. in their passage across the; northern portion of Georgia, a blacksmith had erected his forge, in the early settle ment of that region by the American race, and drove a thrifty trade in the way of (a C's" a 'S and bDulaltZltlO nr:hs far OIL cot. tiers, nod shoeing horses fur wayfaring people in their transit through the country to examine gold mines and land. As he was no ordinary personage in the affairs of his neighborhood, and will ionize a conspicuous figur'e in this narrative. some a ccount of his peculiarities will not be un interestln,g. Having acted through life in a homely maxim of his own --"pity up as you go up'—he had acquired seine money and was out of debt, and consequently en- joyed 'the glorious privilege of being in- dependent,' in a degree that is unknown to many who occupy a larger portion of the world's attention than himself. He NVaS burly, a well looking man of thirty-five, just young enough to feel that all his lac. pities, mental mid physical, had reached their greatest development, mil just old enough to have amassed sufficient experi ence of men and things, to make the past serve as a finger post to his future journey through life. With n shrewd, but open, bold and honest look, there was a gleeful expression in the corners of his eyes, that spoke of fan. The 'laughing devil in his eye' was mita malicious spirit, however. Ilis physical conformation was that which combined great strength will agility, and if he had been fated to have been a catem porary of his great prototype, Vulcan there can be no doubt that the Lemnian blacksmith would have allotted to him a front forgo in his establishment, to act as a sort ofpattern card, and to divert the pub lic gaze from his own game leg to the fair proportions of his foreman. Now, although Ned Forgeron, for such on as the name he had inherited from some Gallic ancestor, was a good natured mats, yet in the possessim of great muscular strength and courage, and the admiration which a successful exercise of the powers never foils to command, had somewhat spoiled him. Without meaning to injure any mortal he had managed, nevertheless, to try his prowess on sundry of his neigh bors, and from the success which always crowned his honest efforts in that way, had unconsciously acquired the character of a bully. With very few early advantages of ele mentary education, he had nevertheless, at different periods, collected a mass of het erogenous information, which he was very fond of displaying on all occasions. He was a sort of political antiquary, and could tell the opinion of Mr, Jefferson or Mr. Madison, on any subject, and was referred on all disputed points of the theory and history of the government, that rose among the candidates for the legislature and coun ty politicians. Thiihe studied on account of the consequence it invested him with. But why he had treasured up an old and well thumbed copy of Paine's 'Age of Reason,' and affected scepticism as; to the veracity of the story of Jonah and the whale, and Belaam and his ass, would be hard accounting for, unless it proceeded from the desire of a character of singularity and erudition. When vanity onco gets the mastery of a man's reason, there is no tel ling the absurdities it will lead him into. He was fond of speaking of Volney, and being found with a copy of Taylor's *Di egesis, in his hand, although few of his neighbors had heard of the author of the 'Ruins,' or knew what Diegesis meant. This peculiarity, together with the per tinacity of the Missionaries, Worcester and Butler, which carried them to the peniten tiary, may account for the great aversion of Mr. Edward Forgeron to all preachers of the Gospel. His dislike for them was so excessive, that he could scarcely speak of tho *hypocritical scoundrels,' as he call. ed them, without flying into a passion and using indecorous language. But a circumstance occurred which gave his zeal a distinct and sectarian direction. A Methodist preacher over in Tennesse, who was fond of spicing his discourse with anecdotes, once made the blacksmith the principal character in a long sermon. His peculiarities were diluted on and his here. ales dealt with, inh2coming severity. He was ridiculed by the preacher. All this came to the ears of Forgeron, with such additions and embellishments as stories usually receive in passing to a third per son. •It would be as useless to describe a mountain storm, us to picture the wrath of This inountaiueer. But if we cannot por tray the storm, the consequences may be easily told. The blacksmith swore in his wrath he would whip every Methodist preach''r thatrassed the gap, in revenge of this insult. Forgeron was a man of his word, as the bruised features of many of John Wesley's disciples could testify. His character soon went abroad, and the good old matrons of the surrounding counties on each side of the mountain trembled at his name. In short, the mountain pass, which was real kndsoen n • ter would seek for a picture and was jei the spot to remind a youth fresh from his classic studies of the place where Leonidas and his three hundred Spartans fell in at tempting to defend Greece from the army of Xerxes ; but in despite of the grandeur of its beetling cliffs, and the beauty of its verdure, it was associated in the mind s of many pious persons, with the broad gate that leads to destruction. And Ned For geron, the handsome blacksmith, was in vested with the attributes and hideous as pect of his Satanic majesty by many a mountain girl, who would doubtless have fallen in 'love at first sight' with him, un der any other name. The preacher whose circuit lay on the other side of the mountain, at the time Ned's direful edict was promulgated to the world, was a meek and lowly man, who approached nearly in his natural disposi tion to willing obedience to the. mandate relative to turning the cheek to the smiler. The poor soul passed many sleeplese nights in view of the fate that awaited hint at the mountain pass. In his dreams he saw Forgeron with a huge sledge hammer in his hand, ready to dash out his brains, and would start with such violence as to wake himself. He inquired if there was no other place at which the mountain could be passed, Only to learn his dorm more cer tainly. Being a timid man, but withal devoutly iinpress.ed with a sense of duty, he resolved to discharge his duties faithful ly, be the consequences what they might. Like a lamb going to the slaughter did lie Arend his way toward the gap; as he came in front of the shop, the blacksmith was striking the last blow on a shovel, and sing ing to the tune of 'Chit the kitchen'— 'Old Georgia is a noble State, for lairs are good and her people great' On °etching a glimpse of the poor par- son, who had flattered himself that he was about to pass with impunity, Ned sung out —.Stop there, you eternal shadbelly, and pay the penalty of my injured reputation!' The holy man protested innocence of having ever intentionally injured hint, by word or deed. The man's subdued looks and earnest voice, had half dissuaded Ned from his stern purpose, when the giggling of his striker and the oheering of two or three idlers, nerved him to do what he felt to be mean. Let any one pause a moment, and reflect if he has ever been urged on to acts his consciemce smote him for, by the opin ions of others, before Mr. Forgeron is sen tenced as a devil. 'f he preacher received several boxes on his ears, and heard many denunciations against the sent before he was permitted to depart, and when that permission was given he was not slow in availing himself of the privilege. At the next annual conference, whoa LIBMITT AND UNION, NOW AND PAIR, ON& AND INSDPA.RABLIL HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 1856, circuits were assigned to the different preachers, this one made his , appearance punctually, but by some process of casuis try, convinced himself that his duty did not call for a revelation of his sufferings. If he was too sensitive of the blacksmith's character to expose it to rude remark, or if he had a preference that some worthier brother shoii4 occupy that healthy station among the mountains, is difficult to conjec ture. But Forgeron's reputation had ex tended beyond the circuit and been done ample and severe justice to by others, who had heard of his fame. It soon became the subject of animated conversation, and there was no little wincing, each one fear ing it would be his cruel fate, to be sent a victim to appease the wrath of this human minotaur against the Methodist church. After a time it was decreed that the Rev erend Mr. Stubbleworth was the doomed individual, and when the annunciation came, many an eye of mingled pity and curiosity was turned on its ruddy, good looking face to see how the dispensation was borne, but not a muscle moved. With a quiet smile he professed a perfect willing ness to go where ho was sent. He was 'clay in the hands of the potter,' he said. It he piqued himself on a stolid indiffer ence to the blacksmith's pummelings, or relied on his ample dimensions to protect himself, he never disclosed, but appeared as self-satisfied and content as ever. Ills predecessor looked for all the world like a mouse just escaped from the fangs of some terrible grimalkin. Mr. Stub bleworth arranged his lew sub. !unary affairs, and bidding his friends adieu mounted his old roan and departed for his new home of trials. with a sung of praise on his lips. Let us hope the best for him. CHAPTER 11. The Rev. Mr. Stubbleworth was very much pleased with his new situation ; ha ving been transferred from a level pine woods country, near the confines in Florida the novelty of mountain scenery and the pure, brazing atmosphere, seemed to in• all the mothers, on the singular beauty and intelligence of their children, with a deli cate allusion to their own personal appear ' anoe, he soon became a general favorite. He •knew which side of his bread the but ' ter was on.' The time arriving for his departure to visit the tramontane portion of his pastoral care, he was warned of the dangers he was about to encounter, but they were heard with the same placid smile. The worthy ladies pictured to him chimeras dire,' suf ficient to have abated the zeal of any oth er individual. But that gentleman quiet ed their fears, by appealing to the power that "tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, with a countenance as tomblike es could be imagined. And he departed—singing, "At home or abroad, on the land, on the sea, As thy wants may demand, shall thy strength ever be." They watched him, until his portly per son and the horse grew dim in the distance and turned away, sighing that such a good man should fall into the hands of that mon ster, the blacksmith, Forgeron had heard of this new victim, and rejoiced that his size and appearance furnished a better subject for his vengeance than the attenuated frame of the late par son. Oh, what a nice beating he would have ! He had heard too, that some Me thodist preachers were rather high spirited and hoped this one might prove so, that he might provoke him to fight. Knowing the clergyman must pass on Saturday in the afternoon, he gave his striker holiday, and reclining on a bench, regaled himself on the beauties of Tom Paine, awaiting the arrival of the preacher. It was not over an hour, before he heard the words— "how happy are they, who their Saviour obey, And have laid up their treasures above," sung in a full clear voice, and soon the vo calist, turtling the angle of a rock, rode leisurely up, with a contented smile on his face. 'How are you old elab•eides 1 Get off your horse and join my devotions,' said the blacksmith. 'I have many miles to ride,' answered the preacher, 'and havn't lime. my friend. I'll call as I return.' 'Your name is Stubbleworth, and you are the hypocrite the Methodists have sent hero, eh ?' (My name is Stubbloworth,' he replied mee (Didn't you know my name was Ned Forgeron, the blacksmith, what whips ev ery Methodist preacher that goes through this gap !' was asked with an audacious look. 'And how dare you come here 1' The preacher replied that he had heard Forgeron's name, but presumed that he did not molest well behaved travellers. 'You presumed so I res, you are the most presumptuous peel you Methodists that ever trod shoe leatb any how. Well what'll you do if I donihip you at this time, you beef•headed diple you ?' Mt. Stubbleworth pulsed his willing ness to do anything rentable to avoid such penance. 'Well, there's three tlgs you have to do, or I'll maul you into elly. The first is, you are to quit preacog ; the second is, you must wear this will and testa ment of Thomas Paine ; at to your heart, read it every day, and breve every word you read; and the third you are to curse the Methodists in ever :roved you ever get into.' The preacher looked i during these moral propositions, wilful a line of his face being moved, and adze end replied that the terms were unreonable, and he would not submit to lhei ElVell, you have got nOurfing to sub mit to, than. I'll lorrupou like blazes I I'll tear you into doll sat, corner•vays ! Get down you long•facethypoci:te.' The preacher remonst.ted, and Forge con walked up to tho hoe and threatened to tear him off, if he di not dismount, whereupon the worthy inn made a virtue of necessity and alighte:!. have but one reques! to make, my friend, that is you won't bat me with this overcoat on, It was a precut from the la dies of my last ciren:t, at!) I do not wish to have it torn.' 'Off with it, and that :t.ldenly you ba sin-faced imp you.' The Methodist preacherslowly drew off his surcoat, as the blacis.mith continued his tirade of abuso on hinvelf and his sect, and as he drew his right land from the sleeve, and threw the gement behind him he dealt Mr. Forgeron a teenlendnus blow between the eyes, which aid that parson at full length on the ground, with the testa ment of Thomas Paine beside him. Tho Rev. Mr. Stubbleworth, v.:ill the tact of a connoisseur in such matters, did not wait for his adversary to rise, mounted him stowed his blows, with a bounteous hand, on the stomach and face of the blacksmith continuing'his song where ho had left off; on his arrival at the smithy— "Tongues calinot express, the swoet comfort and Of a soul in its earliest lone," [peace, until Mr. Forgeron groin having experien ced 'first love,' or some other sensation e• qually new to him responded very lustily, 'Nough ! Nough ! Nough ! Take him off!' Hut, unfortunately, there was none by to perform that kind office, except the old roan and he munched a bunch of grass and looked on as if his master was 'happy' at a camp meeting, 'Now,' said Mr. Stubbleworth, 'there are three things you must promise me, before I let you up.' 'What are they 7 ' asked Forgeron ea gerly. 'The first Is, that you will never molest a Methodist preacher again ' Here Ned's pride rose ; and he hesitated, and the rev erend gentleman, with his usual benignity renewed his blows and sung— "I rode on the sky, freely justified I, And the moon it was under my feet." . . This oriental language overcame the blacksmith ! Such bold figures, or some !king else, caused him to sing out, , Well, I'll do it—l'll do it I' 'You are getting on very well,' said Mr, Stubbleworth—q think I can make a de cent man of you yet, and perhaps a chria tian.' 'The second thing require of you, is, to go to the Pumpkinvino Creek Meeting house, sod hear me preach to•morrow.' Ned attempted to stammer some excuse —.l—l that is-' When the divine resumed his devotion al hymn and kept time with the music stri king him over the face with the fleshy part of the hand— "My soul mounted higher, on s chariot of fire, Nor did envy Elijah his seat." -- -- Ned's promise of punctuality caused the parson's exercise to cease, and the words redolent of gorgeous imagery, died away in echoes from the adjacent crags. 'Now the third and last demand I make of you is peremptory.' Ned was all at tention to know what was to oome next.— "You are to promise to seek religion, day and night, and never rest until yed obtain it at the hands of a merciful Redeemer.'— 'f he fallen man looked at the declining sun, and then at the parson, and knew not what to say, when the latter individual be gan to raise his voioo in song once more, and Ned kew what would come next. 'l'll do my best,' be said, in an humbled voice. 'Well that's a man,' Mr. Stubbleworth said. 'Now get up and go down to the spring and Noah your face, and dust your clothes, and tear. up Mr. Paine's testansen4 and turn your thoughts on high.' Ned arose with feelings he had never ex perienced before, and went to obey the lavatory injunction of the preacher, when the gentleman mounted his horse, took Ned by the hand, and said—lLeep your promises and I'll keep your coarse'. Good evening, Mr. Forgetton—l'll look for you to-morrow, and off he rode with the same inaperturable countenance, 'singing so loud as to scare the eaglets from their eyrie, in the overhanging rocks. Well, thought Ned, this is a nice busi ness ! What would people say if they knew Edward Forgeron was whipt before his own door in the gap, and by a Metho dist preacher, too T But his musings were 'more in sorrow than anger.' CIIAPTIER 111 The disfigured countenance of Forge ron was of course the subject of numerous questions that night among his friends, to which he replied with a stern look they well understood and the vague remark that he had met with an accident. Of course they never dreamed of the true case.— Forgeron looked in the glass, and perhaps compared the changing hues of his 'black eye from a recent scuffle' to the rainbow shipwreck scene—'blending every color into one.' Or perhaps ho had never read that swig and only muttered to himself, 'Ned Forgeron whiped by a Methodist preacher !' His dreams that night were of coarused and disagreeable nature, and walking in the morning, he had an distinct memory of something unpleasant having occurred. At first he could not recollect the cause of his feeling, but the bruise 4 on his face and body soon called them to mind. as well as the promise. Ho mounted his horse in si lence, and went to redeem it. From that time his whole conduct man ifested a change of feeling. The gossips of the neighborhood observed it, and whia- pered that Ned was silent and serious, and Lad gone to raeeting every Sunday since the accident, They wondered at his bur ning the books Ito used to read so much.— metamorphose of the jovial, dare devil blue ksmith into a gloomy and taciturn man. Supposed, very Imply, that a 'spirit' 1,34 enticed him into the mountains, and slier giving him a glimpse into the future, had misled him to a crag, where he had fallen and bruised his face. Others gave the prince of darkness the credit of the change but none suspected the Methodist preach er, and as the latter gentleman had no vanity to gratify, the secret remained with Ned. This gloomy state of mind continued until Forgeron visited a camp-meeting.— The Reverend Mr. Stubbleworth preached a sermon that seemed to enter his soul, and relieve it of a burden, and the song of 'How happy are they, who their Savior obey.' was only half through, when he felt like a new man. Forgeron was from that time 'a shouting Methodist.' At a love-feast, a short time subsequent, he gave in his ex perience, and revealed the mystery of his conviction and coversion to his astonished neighbors. The Reverend Simon Stub bleworth, who had faithfully kept tho se. cret until that time, could contain himself no longer, but gave vent to his feelings in convulsive peals of I aughter, as the burn ing tears of heartfelt joy coursed their way down his cheeks. Yes, my brethren,' he said, 'it's all a fact, I did maul the grace into his unbelieving said, there's no doubt of it P The blacksmith of the mountain pass became a happy man and a Methodist preacher. *tittt litisdang. LIFE AT WEST POINT. The cadet sleeps in the barracks in a room with one other; at half past five in the winter the reveille awakens him he immediately arises, doubles up his blan ket and matress, apd places them on the head of his iron bedstead, he studies until seven o'clack ; at that hour the drum beats for breakfast, and the cadets fall into rank and proceed to mess hall. Twenty min utes is the usual time spent at breakfast, Guard mounting takes place at half past seven, and twenty-four men are placed on guard every day. At eight o'clock the bugle again sounds, the professors dis• miss their respective stations, the cadets form ranks opposite the barracks, and march to dinner. Between eleven and one a part of the cadets are occupied in riding and others in fencing, daily. After din ner they have until two o'clock for recre ation. and from two to four o'clock the bu gle sounds and they go either to battalion or light artillery drill. This exercise lasts an hour and ti half. After that, they devote the same time to recreation until parade, which takes place at sunset. After parade, they form into rank in front of the barracks, and the names of the delinquents are read by an officer of the cadets, Supper comes next and, after supper recreation till eight o'- clock when the bugle sounds to call to quarters, and every cadet must be found in his room, within a few minutes, at study and must remain there thus employed un til half past nine. At half-past nine the bugle sounds—ihis is called tatoe ; and at teu the drum taps, and at tea every cadet must be in bed, having his light extin guished, and must remain there till ma tting. If during the night, the cadet is found to be absent from his room more than thirty minutes and does not give a satisfac tory account of himself, charges are pre ferred against him, and he is csurt-tuar tialed. The use of intoxicating drink and to bacco is strongly repudiated ; no are play ing at chess wearing whiskers, and a great many. other things. The punis! , ment to which the cadets a:5 liable, are privation of recreation, ikc., extra hours of duty, reprimands, arrests, cenfinemetd to his room or tent ; confinetnent in prison, con &lenient in dark prison, distnission with the privilege of resigning in public dis• mission. The Squire's Georgia Widow. ..Oh !"says the squire, •I wish I was married and well over it. I dread it pow erfully. I'd like to marry a widow. I alters liked widows since I know'd one down in Georgia, that suited my ideas ad zactly. 'About a week after her husband died, she started down to the graveyard, whar they planted of him, as she said, to read the perscription onto his monument.— When she got thar, she stood a minute a looking at the stones which was put at each end of the grave, with an epithed on 'em that the minister had writ for her.— Then sho buret out, ! boo!' says site I 1.!.L0ne..5.. he was one.Jai tg itri1 , ...1X1141.,,4 about a week ago, he hiougltt - down from town some sugar and a little tea; aod some atore.g,oods for me, and lots of litt' , ‘ necessaries, and a painted hose for Jeers,,, 'd child got his tn..... all yelleinttucking . . of it; and then he kissed the children all round, and took down that good old fiddle of lus'n and play ed up that good old tune : "Rake her down, Sal, oh 1 ran - rang diddle. Oh 1 rang clang diddle, clang, Bang dal" .11en..,' says the Squire, , she began to dance and I jilt thought she was the grea. Lest woman ever I see." The Squire always gives a short laugh after he tells this anecdote, and then fil ling and lighting his pipe, subsides into an arm chair in front of the •Exchange, and indulges in cairn and dreamy reflec• tions. Preserving Fruit in their own Juice. Thirteen bottles of preserved fruit were exhibited lately at Rochester, New York, by Wm. R. Smith, of Wayne county, vie ; five of cherries, two peaches, one of different varieties of currants, one of black berries, and one of plums. They were examined by a committee, and found of fine flavor, and the committee expressed the opinion that the art of preserving fruit in this manner is practicable, and that the fruit, when carefully pet up, can be made to keep as long as may be desirable. The method of preserving is thus given to the New York State Society by Mr. Smith : wrhey are preserved by placing the bot tle filled with the fruit in cold water, and raising the temperature to the boiling point as quick as possible; then cork and seal the bottles immediately. Some varieties of fruit will not fill the bottles with their own juice—these must be filled with boil ing water, and corked as before .mentioned after the surrounding water boils." Fruits can also be preserved by carbonic acid gas. The bottles, after the fruit is put into them should be charged with the gas under pressure, to expel all the air, and then sealed :T.—Scientific alinerican. Charcoal for Swine. It is not perhaps, generally known, that one of the best articles that can be given to swine while in preparation for the tub, is common charcoal. Tbe nutritive pro perties are so great, that the hog have sub sisted on it without other food for weeks together. Geese confined so as to deprive them of motion, and fattened on three grains of corn per day, and as much char coal as they can devour, have become fat tened in eight days. The hog eats vora ciously, after a little time, and is never sick while he has a good supply. It should always be kept in the sty, and be fed like all other food, regularly to the inmates. VOL. XXI. NO. '7. Cire for Hydrophobia. Any remedy for this terrible disease should be bailed as a blessing. The Eliz abethtown (N. J.)jPost comes to us mar ked (says the Scientific .ntnerican,) by the editor to direct our attention to the follow ing rema;ks and receipt for curing this scourge; "Some three years ago we published in the Post a remedy for that terrible disease, but it seems credence was not given to our knowledge. Yet there are still living many evidences of its effioa cy. It was first pre scribed on a consultation of three physi cians for an individual who had been hit. ten and badly torn by dog known to be mad and we believe. after the individual had one or two spasms of hydrophobia. The patient was cured, and lived many years. Of the three physicians but one still one. vices, a man of nearly 85 years, and he Una had occasion to prescrtbe the same remedy, during along term of fifty year's practice, for other persons bitten by rabid animals, and always with success. The last time was within our memory, be. tweets the years 1820 and 1824, we be lieve, when several children in the south part of Chesterfield, or north part of Wills borough, in this county, were bitten by a cat. Animals a-ere bitten by the same cat and went mad and died. We know not if any of the individuals bitten are still living in that neighborhood, but there. are, undoubtedly others who will remember the circumstances. A remedy so well-known to have proved a cure, should be known to the medical profession and to the world; and we once more publish it hoping that muny others may imbibe a portion of the faith we ourselves have in it; and again prove its efficacy should anoccasion un fortunately offer. "Keep the sore running or discharging matter as long as possible with powdered verdigris dusted into the wound, and give one grain of mineral turpeth at a dose three times a day in a little dry sugar rubbed very fine. and washed down with wa rm. I tea ee water, until the mouth is sliglAy af : [ the appearances of tl.e affection in the mouth have disappeared ; then repeat the course in the same way. Repeat the cour ses three or four times in the course of six Iweeks, when I consider the patient out of danger." Preservation of Wheat from Weevil Numerous remedies have been proposed to protect wheat from the ravages of wee vil, but the most of them have been im practicable or too expensive. M. Cailat, in France, reommends the use of tar, as a certain and economical agent for their destruction. He says : “The efficacy of tar in driving away the weevil and preserving the grain, is an incontestable fact. My father had, a long time ago, his granaries, barns, and the whole house infested with these insects so much so that they penetrated into all the chests and among the linen. He did place art open bask, impregnated with tar, in the barn, and then in the granaries—at the end of some hours the weevils were see t 4 climbing along the wall by myriads, and flying in uli directions from the cask. On moving the tarred vessel from place to place, the premises were in a few days completely cleared of these troublesome and pernicious guests. The agriculturist who wants to get rid of weevils, may, as soon as he perceives their presence, im pregnate the surface of some old planks with tar, and then place them as required in his granaries. Care must be taken to renew the tar from time to time in the course of the year to prevent the return of the insects. Do You Eat Pork ? Physicians have just discovered that the tape worm only troub!cs those who eat pork. The Medical Gazette asserts that the Elebrews are never troubled with it ; the pork butchers are particularly liable to it, and that dogs fed on pork ere universal ly afbicted—in fact it turns out that a small parasite worm,-called erystecersys, (from two words signiifying a sthall sect and tail,) which much effects pork, no sooner reaches the stomach than from the change of diet and position, it is metamorphosed into the well known tape worm; and the experiments of Dr. Kuchenmelster, of Zittoria, upon a condemned criminal, have established the fact beyond all eentmdic.. tion, Pork eaters ,vill please make a note —Daily NtleB. HELP ONE ANOTHER.—Sir WalterScottsays: "The race ofmankind would perish did we cease to help each other. Front the time that the mother binds the child's hoed till the moment that some kind assistant wipes the doathdamp from the brow of the dying, we cannot exist Without mutual help. All, therefore, that need aid, have a right to ask it of their fellow mor• talc ; and no one who has it in his power to grant. can tofu.* without incurring guilt,-
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